


His Warrior

by Clytemnestrasrevenge



Series: Blood and Ashes on My Tongue [1]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gladiators, Duelling, Fluff and Smut, I couldn't help myself, I have a potty mouth and so does Jaehwan, Its a lot, Jaehwan is a good person, Jaehwan is so smitten, M/M, Minor Character Death, Swordfighting, Wonshik is sassy, generally a lot of knives, hyuken are bros, less angst than you're expecting, like they're actually brothers, stick with me on this one lol, tried to be slow burn and failed miserably, vixx have kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-09-23 17:50:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20344231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clytemnestrasrevenge/pseuds/Clytemnestrasrevenge
Summary: “That one. If I have to have one, then I want that one.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey lovely! If you were wondering what I've been doing instead of chaotically updating every five minutes, I've been glued to my desk getting lost in this fic. It's all I can focus on, and will be about 50k total, so bare with me. Normal updates will resume as soon as I get this story out of my head!
> 
> <3 <3 <3
> 
> *Mistakes are mine*

☩☩☩☩☩

☩☩☩☩☩

“Jaehwan, just select one and get it over with.”

The eldest son of Duke and Duchess Lee swept his dark hair from his eyes with a graceful flick. The day was dreary, a light drizzle that was neither hot nor cold and clouds coloring the sky a slate grey. The worst kind of weather in Jaehwan’s not so humble opinion. 

“You know I have no interest in _ sport,” _he replied, lifting his glass of wine to his lips and looking at the specimen on display below with utter indifference. 

His father sighed, taking the glass from his hand and setting it on the table between them with a loud clink. “I am well aware of your distaste. Your... _ predilections. _ But for the sake of our family’s reputation you must at least _ try _and appear interested.”

“That’s what you have Sanghyuk for, strong enough to be a gladiator himself and interested enough for the both of us.” Jaehwan looked over at his younger brother, the picture of masculinity and pride of his family. The baby, the perfect son. And no matter how much he knew his father favored his younger brother over him, the eldest, the more important child in terms of rank, Jaehwan wasn’t jealous. He loved his brother just as much as the rest of the dull world. More even. 

“Come on Hwannie, just pick one. Pick one for no other reason than they’re nice to look at,” his brother whispered, patting him on the shoulder and flashing a smile.

Their mother would have scolded Sanghyuk for that, but she wasn’t here. Women weren’t allowed in the arena. One of the trainers had joked about that once, muttered it to one of the guards:_ If women weren’t allowed in the arena then the Lordling shouldn’t be allowed in either. _Sanghyuk had beaten the trainer senseless with his own bare hands. And then beaten the guard for laughing. 

“Only because you asked so sweetly,” Jaehwan replied, giving his brothers cheek an affectionate pinch. 

He turned his gaze downward, to the sand and the men standing upon it. Filing in and out of the arena at the call of bids from the onlookers. Jaehwan felt his lip curl. Disdain couldn’t _ begin _to encompass how he felt watching this parade of unwilling flesh. The sight soured his stomach. 

_ Pick one because they’re nice to look at. _He could do that, hand the poor man over to his brother and let Sanghyuk do the actual training. Jaehwan would make sure the man was well cared for. That they weren’t mistreated. His brother would never but the others might. Jaehwan wouldn’t allow it. The idea of having a person, a human being with a soul. Be his. He hated it. 

Jaehwan scanned the line of men, they looked back at him with unfocused eyes. All tall and muscular like Sanghyuk. There was a blonde one, one with pretty dark eyes and a strong jaw, one with a truly lovely tan. This should be like a fucking buffet to Jaehwan, but it was not. 

He looked at all of them, unable to pick. The dark eyed one was called, filing off the sand as another was led on to it. Jaehwan couldn’t just... who was _ that?! _

The man who made his way onto the sand was- he was stunning. Honeyed skin, black hair, soft brown eyes... and tattoos. 

“That one. If I have to have one, then I want that one.”

Sanghyuk glanced at him, waiting for Jaehwan to nod before he signaled the auctioneer.

“Finally,” his father muttered, downing the contents of his glass with a tired sigh. 

Jaehwan kept his eyes fixed on the man. He had caught on to what was happening, looking up into the stands with undisguised curiosity. He was probably anxious to see what kind of monster could purchase a human being, Jaehwan thought bitterly, sipping his wine and leaning back in his chair. 

“Go speak to him, introduce yourself and tell him what he’ll be doing in our service. You know the speech.”

“No! Let Sanghyuk do it!” Jaehwan spluttered, widening his eyes at his father in disbelief. “He isn’t Sanghyuk’s, he’s _ yours. _Now get down there and do your gods damned duty.”

Jaehwan was getting ready to protest, working himself up to a tantrum, but his brother put a restraining hand on his arm. “I’ll come with you, it’s not worth it,” he murmured, gently pulling Jaehwan to his feet and over to the staircase. 

“You’re doing all the talking. And the training. And the- the _ dealing, _ you know that, yes?” Jaehwan asked, allowing his brother to lead him down to the arena's lower floor.

“I do, and I’ll do _ most _of it, but you need to do a little of the work.”

Jaehwan shook his brother off and came to a dead stop in the center of the hallway. “I will not! I will not help keep this poor man against his will, he shouldn’t even be here! None of them should!”

“You will,” Sanghyuk snapped, his tone so uncharacteristically sharp that the elder's hand fluttered to his own throat. “You will because he’s yours and you need to bond with him, and furthermore, I know you’re _ more _than capable of handling this no matter how unpleasant you find it.”

“I think you’re forgetting which of us is the elder!”

“No, I think _ you’re _the one who forgot!” Sanghyuk shot back, snatching Jaehwan by the arm and dragging him down the hall once more. “I’ll do most of it, but you’re going to visit him once a day. He’s going to be fighting for you, putting his life on the line for you, in your hands, and showing him a little respect is the _least_ you can do.”

That effectively quashed Jaehwan’s remaining protests. Sanghyuk was right, he usually was in matters like this. Jaehwan was just going to swallow his pride and do it. Once a day wasn’t too bad. Just a greeting, a short exchange of words. Nothing world-shattering. Nothing affection forming. Simple pleasantries. Jaehwan could be pleasant. Maybe. 

They reached the Lee’s private holding-chamber after several twists and turns, Jaehwan’s heart beating faster with each step. There were guards in this part of the arena, in charge of keeping the new acquisitions under control, and unknown guards always made Jaehwan nervous. He wasn’t overly fond of unfamiliar people. _ Just be nice, Jaehwan. You’re a nice person so be nice. It’s not that hard. _

“Lord Jaehwan, the Marquess de Anathama. And his brother, Lord Sanghyuk,” one of the guards announced, opening the door for them as the brothers stepped inside. 

His man was there, leaning against the far wall between two more guards. The guards snapped to attention and bowed respectfully, but they clearly didn’t know who was who because they were looking at Sanghyuk. This wasn’t out of the ordinary. Most people assumed Jaehwan was the younger brother. How could _ he, _ the delicate little slip of a boy _ possibly _be the elder when Sanghyuk was there? Giant and strong and broad and imposing. Still, Jaehwan didn’t really mind. Seeing the surprise on their faces when they realized their mistake gave him a twinge of savage delight. 

Jaehwan watched his man, noting the conspicuous lack of a bow. His eyes were an even prettier shade up close, and those tattoos-

“Show your lord some respect,” one of the guards growled, cracking his man across the back with a truncheon. He saw his man's jaw clench as he was shoved to his knees, and Jaehwan’s temper flared. 

“Enough! Out!” he snapped, waving the guards off and pointing at the door behind him. They looked at each other and then at Sanghyuk, as if _ he _had the final word.

“Show your lord some respect,” his brother parroted, crossing his arms and taking a step back so Jaehwan was in front. The guards hurried away, identical expressions of shock on their faces as the door was shut behind them. 

Jaehwan rolled his shoulders, crossing the room and kneeling down in front of his man. “Are you alright?” he asked, peering into his man’s face.

The only answer was silence.

“What’s your name?” he tried again.

Still nothing. 

“His name is Wonshik,” Sanghyuk said from by the door, a rustle of paper accompanying his words. “From a no-name town in the west of Crensell. Previous occupation… soldier.”

“What’s wrong with soldiers?” Jaehwan asked, picking up the note of annoyance in his brother’s voice. His man- Wonshik, still hadn’t said a word.

“Soldiers are good fighters, but for some reason they always hate taking orders from us.”

“That’s because you’ve done nothing to earn our loyalty other than being born an aristocrat.”

Jaehwan swallowed down his surprise. Wonshik’s voice was deep, a silk-smooth baritone that Jaehwan couldn’t help wanting to hear more of. His brother took the rudeness a bit differently. 

“I could have you flogged for such disrespect.”

“You will do _no_ such thing!” Jaehwan exclaimed, looking around to glare at his brother. Sanghyuk huffed, his arms crossed again.

“I’m doing you the favor of training him; you’ve got to let me discipline too. That’s how it works.”

Wonshik cleared his throat, Jaehwan turning back to his man with what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Which one of you is actually the Marquess?” That voice was _ so _nice, honey richness. 

“I am,” Jaehwan replied, gesturing to himself, “And this is my younger brother. He’s in charge of matches, training, in short, anything that requires physical exertion.”

“And which one of you- who purchased me?”

“I did, technically.” Jaehwan lowered his eyes in shame, fixating on the splash of ink decorating his man’s wrist. Under the manacles. “I didn’t actually want too, the whole idea is abhorrent to-“

“Jaehwan,” Sanghyuk murmured, warning in his tone that the elder studiously ignored.

“-me. So, my brother is going to be training you but I’ll visit once a-“

_“Jaehwan.”_

“-day to say hello and check on your well-being-“

“Jaehwan!”

Jaehwan whirled around, one hand braced on the floor so he wouldn’t topple over. “Unless your next words are _ ‘Oh, Jaehwan you’re the smartest big brother in the world and by the way your new tunic looks fantastic’_, I suggest you stop interrupting me.” 

That coaxed a laugh, a _ laugh, _from his man. A little one, low and musical, but it was enough to make Jaehwan smile. His brother smiled too, a quick upward tug of his mouth before he turned his eyes on Wonshik. “You’re lucky to have such a kind master. My brother will take good care of you.”

Wonshik looked at Jaehwan, warm brown eyes icing over at the word ‘master’. Jaehwan’s stomach twisted painfully. He didn’t like the title either. They were both still kneeling on the stone floor, one angry and one apologetic. It was done now, Jaehwan had done his duty and they could return home, get Wonshik settled. 

“It’s time to go,” Sanghyuk said, reaching out to help Jaehwan to his feet. 

“I’ll come visit you before breakfast tomorrow,” Jaehwan called, allowing his brother to lead him towards the door. He flashed his man a smile, silently hoping his journey wouldn’t be too taxing.

Just as he was opening the door, Jaehwan heard it. Spoken in his man’s deep voice, quiet. “Your word, my law.”

Jaehwan grinned, only half paying attention as Sanghyuk ordered the guards about, preparing to bring Wonshik back to the manor. The traditional oath, the first hint of respect Wonshik had shown him. Maybe Jaehwan’s kindness hadn’t been pointless. He’d done _ something _to earn that oath, and it made the knot in the pit of his stomach loosen. Just a bit. 

☩☩☩☩☩

Sanghyuk knocked on the door of his brother’s bedchamber, straightening his deep green tunic and waiting about three seconds before letting himself in. 

“Wake up,” he said, voice purposefully louder than necessary as he strolled past the mountain of blankets obscuring his brother from view. Sanghyuk went to stand by one of the windows, pursing his lips as his brother’s head popped up. 

“Why?” Jaehwan groaned, sleepily rubbing his eyes. The blankets shifted and his brother was tugged back out of sight, Sanghyuk sighing with irritation.

“Whoever you are, leave us. Now.”

“How about… you leave, Hyukkie. Going another… round would do wonders for my… hangover.”

Sanghyuk looked at the ceiling, sending a silent prayer to the gods for strength before strolling over to the bed and yanking the covers away. The guard currently trying to shove his tongue down his naked brothers throat, one of the new recruits Sanghyuk noted, froze. He blinked for a heartbeat, then sprang away and stumbled out of bed, grabbing his clothes on his way out of the servant’s entrance. 

“Really, Jaehwan?”

_“Really, Jaehwan?”_ his brother mimicked, making his voice overly nasal and attempting to kick the younger in the stomach. “At what unholy hour have you woken me? And why?”

“I’ve come to escort you down to the dormitory so you can visit your fighter before breakfast. Like you _ promised _you would.” 

Jaehwan sat bolt upright, clutching one of the sheets around his chest and sliding out of bed. “How is he settling in? Is he making friends? Are they treating him well?” he asked, swirling away behind his dressing screen. Why the sudden attempt at modesty, Sanghyuk had no clue. 

“Friends, I don’t know. He hasn’t even been here a full day yet. But I made sure he had his own room because I assumed that’s what you would want.”

“Yes, good. Good.”

Jaehwan scurried back into view, pale blue tunic hanging off one shoulder and half tucked into the waistband of his leather leggings. Sanghyuk took pity on him, following his brother over to the washbasin and fixing his clothes as Jaehwan splashed water on his face. He’d dismissed Jaehwan’s manservant after all, it was the least he could do. 

“What’s on his schedule today? Do you know?”

“Are you possibly taking an interest in another human being?”

Jaehwan gave him a death-glare, stomping away to put on his boots. “I am! Because, no matter how unwillingly I picked him, he’s my responsibility!”

Sanghyuk grinned. “He has skill assessment after breakfast and then group training with the rest of mine. After lunch is his one on one with me.”

“Good,” Jaehwan murmured, looking himself over in the mirror before turning and holding out his arms. 

“Presentable?”

“Presentable.”

They left Jaehwan’s room and made their way downstairs, Sanghyuk greeting guards and servants as they went. His brother's haughty mask was firmly in place. Chin up, shoulders back, eyes fixed on the distance as if even acknowledging any of the people they passed was beneath him. Sanghyuk knew why he did it, tried to make himself appear unapproachable and above everything, tried to make his _ ‘noble bearing’ _believable.

People didn’t take Jaehwan seriously. Not through any fault of his own... well, a _ little _ fault of his own, but it was Sanghyuk’s fault too. People always looked at Sanghyuk first, he was too much the picture of a perfect son. It’s not like he _ tried _ to make people look to him first, but they always did. So Jaehwan had to try and be, if not _ better, _at least more regal. 

“How about actually breathing every now and then, it’ll help,” Sanghyuk whispered, nudging his brother a touch too hard on accident. Jaehwan stumbled, shooting the younger a _ look _and taking a pointedly deep breath. 

Jaehwan didn’t like going out to the training area, the dormitory, where the fighters were housed. He didn’t actually like going near the fighters at all. Sanghyuk couldn’t really blame him for that. Some of the men were more coarse, less refined than the manor guards. Their eyes followed him differently. Even the guards his brother had taken to his bed had a bit more restraint. 

“This is a good thing, remember? It’ll be great for you.”

That was true. Jaehwan may not care about _sport, _as he put it, but the majority of the aristocracy held it in high regard. Looking like he was _ interested, _ having a fighter of his own and a _ good _fighter at that, it would help the public perception in a big way. And Sanghyuk would personally make sure his brother had the best fighter of them all. 

“Attention! Your lords walk among you!” one of the trainers shouted, drawing the focus of the men milling about the main courtyard to the brothers. Sanghyuk glanced over, noticing that Jaehwan was scanning the faces around them. 

“Where is he? I don’t see him,” he whispered, turning his eyes up to the younger. Sanghyuk led him onwards, past the bowing fighters and inside the dormitory building. It sprawled out in all directions, lots of double rooms and a few singles, a large dining hall, bath house. The training yards surrounded it, wide fields of sand that were home to the sword, truncheon, gladius, mace, bow... the list went on. 

Sanghyuk kept a hand at his brother's elbow as he steered him towards the room that he’d set Wonshik up in. A single room. One with a good view, facing the river not the manor. Jaehwan liked to look out at the river. 

“Just in here,” Sanghyuk said, rapping on the door with his knuckles. They didn’t keep them locked; nobody ever ran. The punishment was too severe for running to even be considered. 

“Let me speak to him alone first, I’ll tell you when to join.”

“Jaehwan, that’s not proper. First of all, think of your reputation, and second, he could easily snap your neck without-“

“Let me _ rephrase _that. I am going to speak to him alone and I’ll tell you when to join. And stop worrying,” Jaehwan replied sharply, flashing the glint of silver at his wrist. Good, he had his daggers. That lessened Sanghyuk’s anxiety the tiniest bit. 

“Fine, but no more than five minutes, we have to get to- _Jaehwan!”_

☩☩☩☩☩

Jaehwan slipped into the room, shutting the door quietly behind him and leaving his brother in the hallway. 

_ His _man was there, reclining on a low pallet. One knee bent and an arm crossed behind his head. Black hair significantly cleaner than it had been in the arena, and a lot less dirt caked on his skin. He didn’t move to stand, didn’t bow, simply stared.

“Marquess.”

“Just my lord will do. Or sir,” Jaehwan replied hastily, folding his hands behind his back. His man wasn’t wearing a shirt, brown trousers rolled up just under the knee. Jaehwan did his best not to drool. 

“You,” Wonshik said, shifting a little on the mattress, “Are _not_ a very popular man, my lord.”

“You say that like it’s news to me,” Jaehwan replied, flashing his man a close-lipped smile. His man chuckled, looking at Jaehwan in a way that made him feel _ entirely _undressed. “What kind of things have they told you about me?”

“I could _ never _repeat such things in the presence of my high and noble lord, it would cause great offense to your person.” There was laughter in his tone, but Jaehwan didn’t rise to meet his man’s sarcasm.

“Trust me, I’ve heard it all. Please, tell me.” Best to know the scale of Wonshik’s terrible impression of him from the start. It would make damage control easier.

“Well, when I told them that I was the Marquess’ new fighter, they laughed at me.”

Jaehwan did his best not to wince. 

“They said the Lordling is vain, weak, and only interested in cards and drink. But mostly, I heard about the Lordling’s taste for... let’s just say _ men. _Your taste for men.”

Wonshik paused, raising an eyebrow as if to ask whether or not to continue.

“Go on, what else?”

“I heard that guards enjoy bragging when you take them to bed, which is apparently _ quite _often, and nobody seems to actually like you. Your brother on the other hand, everyone loves. I think the overwhelming consensus on that is you and he were born in the wrong order.”

Jaehwan licked his lips, forcing a smile onto his face and not letting just how much those comments irritated him show. He hadn’t been lying though, it’s not like Jaehwan hadn’t heard those things before. 

“It’s good to know that rich and poor alike have a similarly low opinion of my character. Consistency is always a comforting thing.”

Wonshik laughed again. Jaehwan realized he was growing to like that sound _ very _much. 

“Let me give you a word of advice, just between friends,” Jaehwan said, taking a step forward and leaning in conspiratorially like he was about to share a secret. “Unless you want deep tissue bruising and several broken bones, I would not repeat any of what you just told me if my brother can hear you. He doesn’t take kindly to slights on my character.”

“But _ you _ don’t mind, do you, my lord?” A wink accompanied the question so Jaehwan played along. It wouldn’t do to show weakness, even to his own man. _ Especially _not to his own man. 

“Of course not. Never feel like you have to censor yourself around me.” Jaehwan winked back, turning towards the door and calling his brother’s name. Sanghyuk stalked into the room, clearly put out, and he looked from Wonshik to Jaehwan with obvious distrust. 

“See, all present and correct, my neck isn’t broken, and we’re roughly six feet apart. Nothing scandalous in the slightest.”

“Lovely. Now, Wonshik. Has my brother explained what your job will be?” Sanghyuk asked, coming to stand at Jaehwan’s side. “Also, you really need to get better about showing your lord respect. Like not lounging around when he’s speaking to you, for example. That’d be a good place to start.”

Wonshik didn’t move. Not a single inch.

“Please,” Jaehwan added, not a very master-y thing to do but it seemed that politeness was the way to get his man to listen.

Wonshik looked at him, murmuring “Your word, my law,” as he slowly got to his feet. 

“Jaehwan that’s _ not _appropriate, he should obey you without you having to say-“

“Thank you,” Jaehwan said, smiling a bit at his brother’s frustrated huff. 

“This is clearly something that needs to be fixed. He can’t disobey you in public, that would ruin the whole point of having him in the first place.”

“And what _ is _the point of having me exactly? Because from what I can tell, my lord doesn’t actually enjoy the games.”

Sanghyuk exhaled sharply, turning to Jaehwan as he replied, “You are here to fight for my brother's honor. Make him look good in the eyes of our peers, which won’t happen if you disrespect him at every turn and speak without being spoken to.”

“Typical rich people, having someone else fight your battles for you,” Wonshik muttered, rolling his eyes. Jaehwan realized his man was standing in the ‘at ease’ position of a soldier. Hands behind his back and feet shoulder-width apart. 

“That’s _ exactly _what I’m talking about! Jaehwan you have to let me-“

“No! I will earn his respect not beat him into submission, and if I see a _single_ fucking mark on him, I’ll find someone else for him to practice with! Am I making myself clear?”

Wonshik and Sanghyuk both stared at Jaehwan as the little room filled with silence. He wasn’t going to back down on this, his brother should know that. Remember how stubborn Jaehwan was. “I will _ not _punish someone for having thoughts and opinions.”

“He can have thoughts and opinions; he just needs to keep them to himself.”

“Sanghyuk! Did I not make myself clear enough?!”

More silence. Jaehwan could feel a tantrum brewing, and he would let it out if his wishes kept being ignored. But surprisingly, his man spoke up. 

“I can’t fight without getting the occasional bruise or scratch, my lord.”

Jaehwan looked over at him, _ up _at him really because Wonshik was nearly as tall as his brother. And he was so lean, strong but lean and with such broad shoulders and-

“Good luck with your first day of training, Wonshik. I’ll come back and see you tomorrow,” Jaehwan said, cutting his wandering thoughts off before they could cross into treacherous territory. He allowed his brother to lead him from the room, making sure he didn’t look as shaken as he felt. 

Jaehwan was in desperate need of breakfast. And some tea.

☩☩☩☩☩

“Faster!” Sanghyuk said, one foot in front of the other as Wonshik parried his strike. “We aren’t fencing, battles on the sand are a brawl not a dance!”

Jaehwan had picked a good one, albeit entirely unwittingly. His man was quick, excellent reflexes and natural skill, but he seemed to be more in favor of defense than offense and that kind of strategy was no use on the sand. It was kill or be killed. 

Sanghyuk brought his practice sword down in a searing arc that the other deflected, but Wonshik had to take a step backwards to do it. Inching closer and closer to the edge of the ring. A foot outside the ring would mean losing and that’s what Sanghyuk was aiming for. 

“We have an audience,” Wonshik said, meeting Sanghyuk’s strike and parrying easily. Taking a moment, taking a bit of a risk, Sanghyuk followed the other’s eyes in the direction of the manor. Jaehwan was up on the balcony, a mug of something in his hand and his dark hair fluttering in the wind as he leaned on the railing. 

“That’s a first, my brother isn’t usually this hands-on.”

Wonshik grinned, only two paces away from the boundary now. “I think my lord likes me.”

Sanghyuk realized his mistake a split second too late. Wonshik hadn’t been just on defense, he’d been letting Sanghyuk tire himself out, learning Sanghyuk’s form. _ Shit. _

The barrage of blows rained down on him so fast he could do nothing but try and keep his sword in his hand as he was pushed back to the center of the ring. Wonshik’s speed was almost frightening, each strike perfectly timed and executed with the grace of a true born fighter. He copied Sanghyuk’s earlier move, bringing down his practice sword in an arc over his head with such force that it splintered Sanghyuk’s own, the piece of wood cracking in two before the young lord lost his balance. 

Sanghyuk ended up flat on his back in the sand, a boot on his chest and the tip of Wonshik’s sword at his throat. 

The sound of clapping from above reached them, Sanghyuk coming to his senses enough to realize that his brother was applauding. Wonshik stepped back and sketched a low bow in Jaehwan’s direction, a grin on his face as he extended a hand to help Sanghyuk to his feet. 

“Not bad, but this time, see if you can beat me without all that dancing around first.”

☩☩☩☩☩

“What did you do before you were a soldier? What does your family do?” Jaehwan asked, leaning against the wall of his man’s room and peering out the window. 

It was his… he didn’t know what visit this was exactly. Wonshik had been here a month already, and he had soundly kicked Sanghyuk into the dirt every day since he'd arrived. Jaehwan always watched from the safety of his balcony, enjoyed the incredibly impressive display of skill. He’d picked his man well. 

“My father… is a farmer. Mother… a healer,” Wonshik replied, breathing through his nose as he did pushups on the floor. That’s why Jaehwan wasn’t looking at him, much safer to stare out the window than to gawk at the muscles of his bare back. 

“In Crensell, yes?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Do you ever wish to go back? You must have had a reason to leave if you enlisted, but…”

“I didn’t enlist voluntarily, I was drafted.” Wonshik sighed, switching from pushups to crunches. “And yes, my lord. I want to go back. I have a little sister and I’d give my right arm to be able to see her again.”

Jaehwan’s heart twisted. That was one of the many reasons he despised this vial practice. Taking people from their families, from their loved ones. It wasn’t fair. Maybe he could try to- try and make up for it. “You know… I have to go and pay the Marquess de Crensell a visit in a few days, and I could use a closeguard. One that is loyal only to me.”

His man froze, Jaehwan heard the rustling of fabric stop. Felt those warm brown eyes burning a hole in his back. He didn’t flinch, didn’t turn, needed to keep up his disinterested and relaxed façade. As if his offer was completely ordinary, completely proper, and not the kind of thing Sanghyuk would lock him in a broom closet for even considering. 

“You have plenty of guards,” Wonshik replied, tone careful and measured. 

“I don’t trust my father’s guards. Or my brothers’ guards, for that matter. It would work in their favor if I died and Sanghyuk took my place. You said it yourself, everyone thinks we were born in the wrong order. My loss would be no hardship.”

More silence, Jaehwan watching the lazy river flow past, the birds flapping about by the shore, wetting their feathers and beaks. He loved the river. 

“What exactly are you offering, my lord?”

His man’s voice was much closer now, movement silent as a blade in the dark. Jaehwan couldn’t stop his flinch that time, no matter how minute is was. 

“A weekend away from training. That you accompany me on my visit as my closeguard, watch my back, make sure no one stabs me. The basics.” Jaehwan paused, trying to ignore the feeling of his man’s breath on his neck. “And you can pay a visit to your family, your sister, on the way back. I’d have to come with you, but- you can just tell them you’re employed in my household. No specifics.”

“What’s to stop me slitting your throat myself and running away?”

Jaehwan shut his eyes. “Not much, in truth. Only the knowledge that my brother would hunt down both you and your family and kill all of you with his bare hands. Also- that I’d really prefer you did not do so.”

“What makes you think I give a _ whit _what you prefer?”

Jaehwan could feel the heat of his man’s body through the thin fabric of his tunic. Not touching but so, _ so _close. “You like me. Just a little, I can tell.”

Wonshik laughed, and for a brief, sunlit moment, Jaehwan thought his man was going to touch him. But Wonshik did not. “If you let me see my sister, no chains and no talk of ownership, my lord, you will have my _ undying _loyalty.”

Jaehwan exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

“Good, then I’ll make arrangements. I must leave now, but please continue kicking my little brothers’ ass in the meantime because it’s incredibly amusing to watch,” Jaehwan said, sidestepping and hastening away towards the hall where Sanghyuk was waiting.

“Your word, my law.”

☩☩☩☩☩

“I can’t even begin to explain how _ inappropriate _this is!” Sanghyuk shouted, glaring at his brother from ten feet away. 

Jaehwan sat on the chair he’d had brought onto his balcony, watching his man smack the piss out of the two other fighters he was practicing with and paying Sanghyuk no attention. 

“Do you want me to list the reasons why it's inappropriate? Because I will! First, he’ll kill you as soon as you leave the grounds. Second, escorting you around is the whole damn reason that we have guards! Third, think of your reputation! If you go through with this, nobody will take him seriously! All they’ll see when they look at him as a sweetboy you bought to warm your sheets!”

Jaehwan sighed, martyred. “You know, sometimes I wonder why I even bother asking for your opinion.”

“You _ bother _because you know I speak sense!”

“Sanghyuk, you are my blood and I know you’d never lift a hand against me, but I cannot say the same for your men. Wonshik has nothing to gain from killing me, but them… to clear a path for you to inherit the dukedom in my place… don’t tell me I’m wrong. You know it’s true.”

Sanghyuk choked on his retort. His brother was right on that count, and he couldn’t argue it no matter how much the truth of it pained him. But still!

“Do you know why I insist on accompanying you on your morning visits?”

“Sanghyuk…”

“Because you need a chaperone! Just as I would if I were calling on mother’s ladies in waiting! If people knew I left you two alone, the scandal would spread like fucking wildfire, let alone if they knew you were taking him on a trip with you!”

“Sanghyuk.”

“It’s not proper, take one of the guards you’re bedding if you need to be assured of your safety! Doing the appropriate thing for once won’t kill you!”

“Sanghyuk!” Jaehwan snapped, standing as he finally turned to look his brother in the eye. “You know _who_ exactly it is I’m going to visit, yes?”

“Yes,” the younger replied, trying his best to swallow down his frustration. He wasn’t overly fond of the Marquess de Crensell to begin with, a fact which wasn’t helping him to keep his temper at the moment.

“Then I’m sure you’re aware that I’m essentially walking into a scandal as it is. Make arrangements for everything Wonshik will need to accompany me, and for god’s sake, do it quietly.”

☩☩☩☩☩

“Why are we leaving in the middle of the night? And why did two of your brothers’ men drag me here like they were taking me to the gallows?”

Jaehwan looked up from his book as his man slid through the carriage door and collapsed on the cushioned bench beside him. Wonshik had on a cloak that the Marquess recognized as belonging to his brother, fine hunter green wool with the hood pulled up to obscure his face. A black cotton cuff was buttoned around a wrist that was connected to a strong hand, a hand which came to rest on a leg covered in black leather leggings similar to Jaehwan's own. The tight fabric highlighted his thigh muscles like-

“No one else can know that you’re accompanying me without a chaperone. It’s not proper.”

“Why not? And what was with the dragging? I thought they were going to arrest me!”

“The story will be that you’re in solitary for misbehaving, so try and think of a convincing lie about doing horrible and treacherous deeds,” Jaehwan replied, turning his eyes down to his book. It was a much safer place to look. 

“You still haven’t told me _ why _it’s not proper.”

Jaehwan sighed, pointedly not looking up. “If you were a guard, that would be one thing. But you’re my- you’re my warrior and with my, as you so delicately put it, _taste for men_ being common knowledge… we shouldn’t even be alone when I come for my daily visit. Why do you think Sanghyuk makes such a fuss?”

His explanation was met with silence for a few heartbeats, before his man began to laugh. 

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s a _ bit _funny.”

Jaehwan shot his man the most poisonous glare he could manage as the carriage finally began to move. “How is people thinking you’re a scoundrel or a heathen funny?”

That wasn’t actually it, it was more about people thinking Jaehwan himself to be a scoundrel and a heathen, but the Marquess wasn’t going to say that out loud. 

Wonshik raised a brow, an evil glint in his gorgeous brown eyes. “Your brother’s worried I’m going to ravish you the second I get you alone?”

“It’s not just- _ huh,” _Jaehwan began, his words breaking off on a sharp exhale. His man had moved with no warning, a hand on the backrest on either side of him, caging him in, that handsome face perilously close. Jaehwan’s heart leapt into his throat.

“He’s worried you’ll be taken against your will by your own property?” Wonshik’s palm came to rest flat on Jaehwan’s chest, fingers splayed wide, right between the two halves of his shirt so he was touching Jaehwan’s bare skin. His man would be able to feel exactly how much Jaehwan’s pulse had elevated. _ He’s just trying to fuck with you, just flustering you. Play it off, you’re the boss, remember? _

“Get your hands off me and sit back down.”

Slowly, _ much _too slowly for his wandering brain to be able to tolerate, Wonshik moved back and Jaehwan’s breathing started to slow. Wonshik slouched in his seat, pulling his hood back and revealing his black hair, still damp from the bath and combed off his forehead. Jaehwan watched how it shined in the dim light of the- 

“Seems like your brother isn’t the only one who’s worried.”

Jaehwan crossed his legs and dropped his book on his man’s lap. He needed to focus on thinking dull, clean thoughts. “Make yourself useful and read to me- wait, can you read?”

“Of course, I can read.”

“It was a fair question, and before I forget, here,” Jaehwan snapped, reaching under the bench and retrieving his own longsword. He had hidden it there before Sanghyuk saw him off, assuming correctly that his brother wouldn’t have given Wonshik a weapon. 

“This is ceremonial,” Wonshik replied, pulling it a few inches from its scabbard and inspecting the jewel encrusted hilt. 

“Is it sharp?”

“Yes.”

“Can you stab someone with it?”

“You don’t really _ stab _with a-“

“Can you _ hurt _someone with it?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then stop complaining and read to me.”

Wonshik chuckled, wrapping the sword belt around his waist and buckling it carefully. “That’s very thoughtful of you, my lord. But now you have no weapons.”

Jaehwan shook out his sleeve, flashing a glint of silver where his stiletto was safely nestled in its wrist sheath. “I’m no good with a sword anyway, I fight Paranza Corta.”

Another raised brow. “An odd style for someone of your rank, my lord. Paranza Corta is better suited to an assassin than a Marquess.”

“I’m fast. Easier for me to wield a dagger than wave around one of your clunky pseudo-codpieces. Now, if you’re _ quite _finished, please read.”

Jaehwan closed his eyes, lifting his hood up to block out some of the lamplight and tugging his cloak around him like a blanket. He heard the rustling of pages, his man cleared his throat and began to read. 

_ ‘Filled with mixed rage and fear, the king called for the astrologers and wizards, and took counsel with them what these things might be, and how to overcome them.’ _

Wonshik had such a _ lovely _voice, soothing and sonorous, lulling Jaehwan to calm as he got lost in the myths of kings and legends of great valor. 

☩☩☩☩☩

Jaehwan’s eyes fluttered open as the surface beneath the carriage wheels changed. When had he fallen asleep? He couldn’t really remember, but it was daytime now, he was so comfortable and warm... and the carriage was on its side?

Blinking and mentally shaking himself awake, Jaehwan realized that _ he _was the one on his side. His cloak was still covering him, but his head was pillowed on his man’s thigh, legs tucked up beneath him on the bench. 

Looking up, he found that Wonshik was sleeping as well, leaning against the carriage wall with his arm draped around Jaehwan’s shoulders. And his cloak was... on top of Jaehwan along with Jaehwan's own. An extra blanket. Wonshik had given Jaehwan his cloak. 

“You don’t have to stare,” Wonshik murmured, cracking one eye open and grinning as Jaehwan felt himself blush. 

“You gave me your cloak?”

“You were shivering, my lord. I couldn’t not simply stand by and watch as my _ glorious _Marquess was shaking like a leaf and whimpering in his sleep.”

Jaehwan’s blush deepened, the tips of his ears feeling much too hot.

“I do not _ whimper _in my sleep,” he replied, sitting up and doing his best to straighten his hair. Nobody had ever told him he did that before, although most people he slept next to were much more interested in what he did while he was awake. 

“I think you were just cold, you stopped once you got all cuddly and I tucked you under my cloak.”

“I didn’t get _ cuddly! _I simply used your leg as a pillow!”

Wonshik snorted, tugging his cloak from around Jaehwan’s shoulders. “You were practically in my lap, nuzzling and holding on to my shirt. If that’s not cuddling, my lord, then I don’t know what is.”

Jaehwan hadn’t thought it was possible to blush any harder, but he was wrong. This may have been a mistake after all.

They spent the remaining two hours on the road in stony silence, looking out opposite windows and watching the rolling hills and lush green fields of Crensell go by. It was a beautiful country, flat farmland where Anathama, Jaehwan’s home, was more mountainous forests. 

“Have you ever met the Marquess de Crensell? When you lived here, I mean?”

Wonshik looked at Jaehwan like he had just asked what color the sky was. “Did you mishear me when I said that my father was a farmer? Why would I have met the Marquess? Your lot don’t usually go around mingling with us lowborn.”

Jaehwan swallowed, he hadn’t actually thought about that. “Point taken. Let me give you a word of warning then.”

Wonshik turned to look at him, question in his warm brown eyes.

“He’s a bit... outgoing.”

“Elaborate.”

Jaehwan cleared his throat. “He’s touchy. Appreciative of beauty in all its forms and not shy about it.” After a pause, Jaehwan added, “If you think the rumors about _ me _are scandalous, they’ve got nothing on the Marquess de Crensell.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, my lord.”

Jaehwan laughed humorlessly. “All I’m saying is be on your guard.”

The ground changed again and Jaehwan leaned over his man, peering out the window as the Marquess’ villa came into view. An imposing building of grey brick, high iron gate topped with golden lions, rows of neatly trimmed hedges ringing the property. 

“Try your best to behave in a professional manor, please,” Jaehwan whispered, his footman opening the door and lowering the little stairs. As was proper, Wonshik exited first, cloak around his shoulders and sword at his hip. He made an impressive picture to be sure. Impressive and imposing and handsome and-

Wonshik raised a hand, Jaehwan taking it as he hopped from the carriage as gracefully as he could. His man steadied him with an unyielding grip on Jaehwan’s elbow, looking the Marquess over once before scanning the courtyard. 

“Jaehwan-ah! Welcome back!”

“Hakyeon,” Jaehwan replied, nearly bowled over as his friend swept him up in a hug. The gods must have been smiling upon him, or Wonshik was just in a good mood after a full night’s sleep, because he actually bowed for a change. “It’s been too long.”

“Indeed! We have much catching up to do! Come in, come in, get settled and then I’ll feed you and we can talk.”

Jaehwan nodded, allowing himself to be led into the villa. He didn’t miss the surreptitious glance the Marquess de Crensell shot Wonshik’s way. 

☩☩☩☩☩

“So, Jaehwan-ah, I heard you finally got yourself a fighter! Caved into daddy’s wishes after all this time?”

Jaehwan hummed, sipping the sweet wine a servant had poured for him. “He and Sanghyuk dragged me to the arena and wouldn’t let me leave until I chose one so, yes. I caved.”

He could feel his man’s eyes on the back of his head where he knew Wonshik stood against the wall, looking every inch the closeguard he was pretending to be.

“You’re such a _ staunch _protester of the games, it’s a shame,” Hakyeon replied, smiling around a bite of steak, “Seeing a man abandon his principles.” 

Jaehwan forced himself to smile. “Well, you know me. The picture of weakness.”

☩☩☩☩☩

Jaehwan whined as Hakyeon fisted his hair and fucked him into the soft, pillowlike mattress. Diplomatic visit or not, this was how their meetings usually went in the end. It felt good, it always did, but this time Jaehwan’s mind was fixed firmly in the man he knew stood right outside the door. 

He imagined it was his man’s hand, skin decorated with ink, palm calloused from years of holding a sword, that was knotted in his hair.

He imagined it was his man’s sharp, pearly white teeth that were grazing the skin at the nape of his neck.

He imagined that it was his man stretching him almost past the point of endurance, pulling moans from him like a maestro running his fingers over the keys of a piano. That it was his man’s voice urging, “Come on, Jaehwan-ah, be a good boy and come for me,” in that smooth baritone, not the honeyed lilt of the Marquess de Crensell.

Jaehwan came with a yelp, curling his fingers into the sheets and seeing black stars burst behind his eyelids. 

“A good show, as always,” Hakyeon mumbled, catching his breath and eyeing Jaehwan as the younger slid out of his bed. “Don’t hesitate to return if you wish to come again.” 

Jaehwan didn’t smile. He pulled on his cotton sleep trousers, wincing as his silk tunic settled over the raw scratches on his back. “Sleep well, my lord.”

“Same to you, my lord.”

Jaehwan slipped from his friend’s bedchamber, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. He closed his eyes, leaning against the cool wood, panting shallowly as he came down from the still-fresh pleasure. 

“You, my glorious Marquess, look a complete and utter mess.”

Jaehwan jumped, having somehow forgotten that his man was there. He frowned.

“I am in no mood for your humorous mockery at the moment,” he replied, pushing off the wall and traipsing back in the direction of his room. Wonshik paced at his side like a shadow, no longer joking but mercifully silent. Jaehwan didn’t want to think just then. He didn’t want to think about his tendency to use sex as a coping mechanism when avoiding more painful feelings. Didn’t want to think about- 

“You’re bleeding, my lord.”

Jaehwan stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder and pulling the silk up so he could see the specks of red staining the fabric. 

“It is of no import. I have an urgent appointment with a rapidly cooling bath that I have no intention of missing,” he replied, pushing open the door to his guest chamber and nearly stumbling inside. His legs felt wobbly, weak from being pushed apart for so long. 

Wonshik slipped in behind him, abandoning his post in the hallway. “I’ll tend your wounds while you’re in there then.”

“You will _not.”_

“I will, because if you get an infection on my watch it will mean my death as well as yours.”

Jaehwan huffed, contemplating the idea of ordering his man from his presence, but some part of him knew that Wonshik would not go. “If you insist,” he muttered, striding into the washroom. 

His bath had been warmed, no doubt under Hakyeon’s instruction by his clever maids, steam rising off the rose-scented water in the wide circular tub. “Turn your back, please,” he instructed, waiting for his man to spin around before stripping off his clothes and stepping in. A sigh pulled itself from him as he settled in, luxuriating in warmth. “Do as you wish and then resume your post.”

Wonshik didn’t move. Jaehwan looked up to see his arms crossed, head cocked to the side, and... brown eyes staring at him from the reflection of a looking glass. 

Jaehwan spluttered, hugging his arms around himself and feeling entirely too exposed. He hadn’t even _ thought _ of- Wonshik had _ seen- _gods he was stupid! He tucked his knees up against himself, keeping his eyes down as he heard his man step up to the side of the tub. 

“Apologies, my lord,” Wonshik murmured, filling a cup with water and pouring it slowly down Jaehwan’s back. It stung a bit but Jaehwan kept his mouth sealed shut. He’d have to remind Hakyeon to trim his damn nails so this wouldn’t happen again. 

Jaehwan sat, allowing his man to rub a cake of honey soap over his back and wash the scratches clean. It was nice, nobody had helped him with his bath since he was a child. He didn’t let himself enjoy it much though, still too embarrassed to relax. 

“Tilt your head back.”

“You can go.”

“Just tilt your head back.”

Jaehwan tilted his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as his man poured water over his hair, keeping his face dry. “You don’t have to wash my hair, I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.”

“With all due respect, my lord, please be quiet.”

Wonshik ran his fingers through Jaehwan’s dark hair, massaging the suds into his scalp with a gentleness that struck the Marquess dumb. Rather surprisingly, he didn’t have any of his awful intrusive thoughts, nothing about wanting Wonshik to pull his hair or wrap that hand around his throat instead. But he couldn’t stop the words that left his-

“Do you want to come in? I can wash your hair for you, it’s only fair.”

His man’s hand stopped, and thankfully Jaehwan still had his eyes shut so he couldn’t see the expression of horror probably written across Wonshik’s face. 

“I shouldn’t-“

“Never mind, I was being fanciful. Please leave.”

There was a pause. Jaehwan felt himself start to blush again. 

“My lord, I-“

“I asked you to leave.”

Another pause. “Your word, my law.”

His man did leave. He left without another word, letting Jaehwan finish his bath alone. The Marquess rinsed the soap from his hair and skin, wrapping a fluffy towel around himself as he returned to his bedchamber. He could see the shadow of Wonshik’s feet in the crack under the door, and Jaehwan decided he didn’t have the energy to get redressed. He crawled into bed, keeping the towel around him and pulling the covers up to his neck. 

_ Why do I have to have feelings for the one person I should care for the least? It’s not fair, _Jaehwan thought, shameful, silent tears rolling down his cheeks as he fell into a restless sleep.

☩☩☩☩☩

“He propositioned me, you know. While you were still sleeping,” Wonshik said, breaking the hour-long silence between them.

Jaehwan was pressed up against the carriage wall, putting as much distance between himself and his man as possible. 

“Who did?”

“The Marquess de Crensell.”

“Oh,” Jaehwan replied, trying his best not to sound huffy. “I warned you. Did you accept?”

“No, that would have required me to leave you unguarded, which I would not do.”

“Would you have done it if I had another guard with me?”

“No.”

Jaehwan didn’t smile, he didn’t allow himself to feel any sense of delight at the fact that Wonshik had rejected Hakyeon, not just himself. “Oh, well you missed out. He’s an excellent fuck.”

“He’s not really my type, my lord,” Wonshik replied, tone light, as if that statement didn’t send the Marquess spiralling. What did he mean?! That he didn’t like Hakyeon specifically or that he wasn’t attracted to men at all?! Jaehwan didn’t ask, it’s not like it mattered anyway.

“We’re getting close to your home, yes?”

“Yeah, only a mile or so now.”

Wonshik had been giving the driver directions since they got back on the road this morning, leading them towards his family's farm. It’s not that Jaehwan didn’t want to take his man home, it’s that Jaehwan felt entirely out of place. They weren’t even there yet and he was starting to become uncomfortable. He’d stay in the carriage, Jaehwan decided, no reason to loom over the festive reunion like an unwelcome specter at a feast. 

The carriage was slowing, but his man pushed the door open and jumped to the ground before it even came to a stop. Jaehwan peaked out the window, making sure he was obscured by the curtain. There was a woman crouched in what looked to be an herb garden, maybe in her late forties with a scarf tied around her hair and an apron over her pale pink dress. Wonshik jogged to her, the woman shrieking with surprise and dropping her bundle of leafy plants as he swept her up in a hug. That must be his mother then, Jaehwan guessed.

The woman beamed, cupping Wonshik’s cheeks and pressing a kiss to his forehead in such a sweet way it made Jaehwan smile. He could make out their conversation from inside the carriage and rather shamefully didn’t stop himself from eavesdropping. 

“How are you here?! Is that your carriage?! We’ve been so worried! When we heard you were captured by traders we thought the worst, but here you are! In nobleman's clothes and all!”

“No, ma, it’s not mine, it’s my bosses. I’m- I’m working as a personal guard for the Marquess de Anathama now, and we were visiting the Marquess here and he said we could stop and pay you all a visit on the way home.”

“You’re working for the- is he in there?!”

“Yes ma, but where’s dad? And Jiwon?”

“He should be back from the fields at any moment, and Jiwon is inside! Oh, she’s going to be so happy!”

Wonshik ran into the small house a few yards away, careening through the front door with his mother on his heels. At least he seemed genuinely happy. Jaehwan fished his book from his satchel and flipped it open, settling in for the wait. He only read for about five minutes though before a middle aged man in dirty boots and a straw hat knocked on the carriage door. 

“Please back away, the-”

“I’m so sorry for loitering on your property sir,” Jaehwan said, interrupting his footman and pulling the carriage door open. “I’m just waiting while my friend visits his family. Wonshik, are you Wonshik’s father?”

The man went pale. “Wonshik... my son is here?!”

“Yes sir, he’s inside waiting for you,” Jaehwan replied, flashing the man his most winning smile. 

The man turned and jogged into the house, calling Wonshik’s name. The sound of happy laughter drifted out to the carriage as Jaehwan settled back in his seat. No way was he going to give Wonshik any opportunity to accuse him of being rude to his family. Not a chance in hell.

It was only another five minutes before his man was pulling open the door. “My family would like to meet you, my lord. And my mother said she’d smack me if I didn't invite you in for something to drink,” he said, an enormous grin on his face. It was the first time Jaehwan had seen Wonshik truly happy. The sight made Jaehwan’s heart swell.

“I couldn’t possibly. Please, go and enjoy your family time, I don’t mind waiting.”

“Nonsense, come along.”

Jaehwan didn’t really have it in him to argue, so he left his book on the bench and slid out of the carriage. “I don’t think they’ll actually be too fond of me so I'll just say hello and leave you to it.”

“Nope, they’ll love you as long as you don’t act like a pompous asshole,” Wonshik said, his hand coming to rest on Jaehwan’s lower back. Even through the fabric of his tunic _ and _ his cloak, Jaehwan felt the skin there burn.

“Do I normally act like a pompous asshole?”

“No, my lord, so please don’t start now.”

Jaehwan allowed himself to smile. Just the tiniest bit. He crossed the threshold and made to take his shoes off but his man waved him in, practically dragging him into a warm kitchen that smelled of freshly baked bread. It was so much more homely than the manor, Jaehwan felt very out of place. 

“Ma, Pa, Jiwon, this is Lord Jaehwan, the Marquess de Anathama. My lord, this is my mother, father, and sister.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Jaehwan said, sweeping a bow the way he always did when meeting new people. Wonshik’s family seemed a bit flustered, unsure of whether or not to bow back and looking to their son for help. Maybe the bow was a little over the top.

“Please, I don’t require special treatment. I’m sure Wonshik has told you that I’m not very regal,” Jaehwan hastened to add, simultaneously smiling and trying to make himself relax. He got the first part, but his muscles still felt tense. 

“Would you care for something to drink- Marquess? Tea, water, wine?” the mother asked, giving him what was clearly an attempt at a kind smile.

“Just Jaehwan is fine, no need for titles. And a glass of water if it isn’t too much trouble?”

The family were very obviously unsure of how to treat him, and Jaehwan chanced a glance at his man. Wonshik was grinning at him from ear to ear, but he led the Marquess over to a wide farmhouse style dining table. “Try breathing, my lord, they won’t bite,” he whispered, pulling out a chair and sliding it back in as Jaehwan sat. 

Jaehwan forced himself to take a deep breath, inclining his head as he accepted a large glass from the mother. Wonshik stayed standing behind him, hands on the backrest of Jaehwan’s chair. 

“So, Shikkie, how long have you been working as a- what was it again?” the father asked, filling a mug with ale from a cask in the corner. 

“A month, and I’m a closeguard. Stick by my lord’s side and make sure he isn’t assassinated. Not too complicated.”

“Yes, I trust your son with my life, even after such a short time,” Jaehwan added, and the truth of the statement surprised him. He felt Wonshik’s eyes on him, Wonshik’s hand resting lightly on his shoulder, and really, _ really _ tried not to blush. 

“That’s lovely,” the mother said, patting her son on the arm as she bustled around the kitchen. “And it’s so generous of you to allow our Shikkie to pay us a visit, we miss him terribly.”

“It’s no trouble ma’am, really,” Jaehwan replied, sipping his water and trying to slump down in his chair, but his near constant instruction on posture wouldn’t allow it. He stuck out like a sore thumb in this cozy room, his buttons too shiny, clothing too flashy, baring just- just all wrong. 

“What’s it like being an aristocrat? From what I can tell, your lot don’t do much.”

Jaehwan managed not to choke, hand fluttering up to his throat as he turned his eyes on the sister. She was staring at him across the table, hands on hips and an extremely distrustful expression on her face. 

“Jiwon, don’t be so rude,” the mother snapped, but Jaehwan tried to smile anyway.

“That’s a good question, but it's one that I’m not terribly qualified to answer. You should ask my brother, he’s the one who's good at governing. I’m just a placeholder, a figurehead of sorts.”

His man’s hand squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t sell yourself short, my lord. You’ll be an excellent leader. I don’t think your brother’s as fantastic as everyone seems to believe.”

Jaehwan swallowed his bubble of joy, lowering his hand and clearing his throat. He would try and give this girl as good an explanation as possible. “Well, let me try and explain. My father, the Duke, is in charge of ruling the Duchy of Anathama for the King, his cousin. It would be hard for the King to personally take care of every territory so he’s deputized certain families to help him manage the lands in his stead. The Duke maintains infrastructure like roads and bridges, handles disputes between citizens, makes sure the land is clean and the people are healthy. There's more to it than that, but that's a very basic explanation.”

The sister, Jiwon, stared at Jaehwan like he was spewing nonsense. “And you all sit around collecting taxes from people who can’t afford them.”

“Jiwon, that’s _ enough,” _ the father said sharply, but Jiwon just crossed her arms.

“Yes, but those taxes are put to use, for the good of the whole community,” Jaehwan tried, feeling himself shrink under this intelligent girl’s gaze. She really had the wrong brother, Sanghyuk could trade words with the best of them. 

“My lord isn’t in charge of our land, Jiwon, the one you should be interrogating is the Marquess de Crensell,” Wonshik said, the tips of his fingers pressing into the nape of Jaehwan’s neck, massaging a little like he was trying to lessen the tension that was now palpable in the room. Jaehwan relaxed into it, if only slightly. He didn’t even register how familiar and inappropriate the gesture was. 

“Well, I have some ideas on how you can do all this infrastructure and take less taxes,” Jiwon said, eyes locked on Jaehwan and mouth set in a firm line.

“Please, I’d like to see these ideas if you have them written down, I'll bring them to my father and see if I can work something out to put them into practise.”

The sister smiled for the first time since Jaehwan walked in, nodding and scurrying off into another room. “Thanks for humoring her, my lord. She’s much too smart for her own good,” Wonshik whispered, bending down and speaking in the Marquess’ ear. Jaehwan tried not to shiver at his man’s hot breath on his skin, nodding and sipping his water.

Jiwon returned with a leather-bound notebook in hand, laying it on the table before she hurried away to help her mother wash vegetables. Jaehwan took it and clutched it to his chest, finishing his drink and fishing around in his pocket for a coin. “Here, buy another notebook and keep writing, intellect is an invaluable gift and you should nurture it,” he said, setting a silver piece on the tabletop and getting to his feet. 

Everyone turned to stare at him, but he just bowed his head and carried his glass to the sink. “I’ll leave you to your visit and return to the carriage. Stay as long as you wish, I have a good book. Thank you so much for your hospitality,” he said, Wonshik following him to the front door.

“I’ll make it quick,” his man said quietly, hand on the small of his back once more.

“Take your time, I don’t mind,” Jaehwan replied, smiling a stupidly shy smile and slipping back outside. 

His footmen helped Jaehwan into the carriage and he settled in to wait, opening Jiwon’s notebook and beginning to read.

☩☩☩☩☩

“How was your little excursion?” Sanghyuk asked, slinking into his brothers bedchamber Monday morning and finding Jaehwan already awake. He had been there to welcome his brother back to the manor last night, but Jaehwan had been so tired he thought it was kinder to let him go to bed and ask questions in the morning. Which is what he was doing now.

“Fruitful. Our relations with the Duchy of Crensell are as secure as ever, and I spoke to a very intelligent girl who gave me some interesting ideas,” Jaehwan replied distractedly. He was sitting behind his desk, pouring over what looked to be a handwritten notebook.

_ “You _ spoke to a _ girl? _ What was the occasion?”

“Oh, you know,” his brother said, waving a hand in the air. “We stopped for refreshments on the way home and she and I got to talking.”

Sanghyuk hummed, moving around to read over his brother's shoulder. It seemed to be a proposal for employing local workers for infrastructure projects, and a rather convoluted way to raise wages and lower the road tax. “And your sudden new interest in public policy stems from what?” he asked, snatching the notebook away and slipping out of his brother's reach. 

“Give that back!” Jaehwan squeaked, leaping from his chair and trying to take the book back. Sanghyuk held it over his head where Jaehwan couldn’t get it, and enjoyed two seconds of victory before his brother kneed him in the stomach. An old tactic but it meant Jaehwan could grab the book when Sanghyuk doubled over with a groan.

He returned to his desk, locking the notebook in his top drawer before straightening his tunic. “You’re here to escort me to the dormitory, yes? Not just steal my possessions and behave like a child?”

“Yeah, if I can still walk after your vicious assault,” Sanghyuk gasped, trying to regain the breath that had been knocked from his lungs. 

“And I take it that my fighter is safely out of solitary and back in his room?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then let’s be about it, shall we?”

Sanghyuk nodded, rubbing his poor stomach and trailing after his brother. “So, you didn’t do anything I’d disapprove of with your new closeguard?” he asked, once he and Jaehwan had left the manor and were on the way to the dormitory.

“Not with him, no, but Hakyeon _ did _ send his regrets about your absence and requested that you join me on my next visit,” Jaehwan replied with a wicked smile.

“As if, you kiss his ass enough for both of us.” That comment earned Sanghyuk an elbow to the ribs but it was entirely worth it. 

Jaehwan didn’t even pause as the assorted fighters in the main courtyard bowed, making a beeline for Wonshik’s room. His brother was getting too attached, no good would come of this.

“Jaehwan, hold on a moment,” Sanghyuk said, catching his brother’s arm and pulling him to a stop in the hallway. “You’re not getting too friendly with him, are you?”

“You told me to bond with him, Sanghyuk, because his life is in my hands, yes?”

“Yes.”

“The way to earn Wonshik’s loyalty is through friendliness. He needs to see me as kin, care for me enough to walk into the arena in my name. We need to forage a connection the way you do with your fighters, and that’s what I'm doing. Is that appropriate?”

Sanghyuk hesitated, but he saw the wisdom in his brother's words. “It’s alright, I guess.”

“Good. I’ll talk to him for a few minutes and then we’ll have a nice breakfast on the veranda.”

☩☩☩☩☩

“No swords today,” Sanghyuk called, stepping onto the sand and eyeing his brother's fighter.

This was a small experiment, to test the loyalty Jaehwan claimed to be building, to make sure it wasn’t a facade on Wonshik’s part to lull his brother into a false sense of security. And additionally, to see if the fighter was equally skilled in areas other than swordcraft. 

“What are we to practice then, my lord?” Wonshik asked, setting his wooden sword back on the weapons rack. 

Sanghyuk grinned, crossing his arms and stepping to the edge of the ring. He’d selected one of the more private yards for this, and for good reason. “Close quarters, knives. And you’re not fighting me. I got you a tutor.”

With an utterly _unnecessary_ flourish, his brother swirled out of the dormitory, pulling off his midnight blue cloak and dropping it on Sanghyuk’s head. Jaehwan had on his fighting leathers, black doublet tight on his torso and tighter pants tucked into his knee-boots. He looked like a raven, dark hair ruffling in the wind and little body swathed entirely in black. This was another test. Sanghyuk knew his brother was pretty, too delicate to be called classically handsome but still pretty, and he wanted to see the fighter's reaction.

“I apologize for my lateness, the cook caught me stealing a pastry and I got scolded,” Jaehwan said, drawing his twin stiletto’s from the sheaths at his wrists and waving at the rack. “Pick a weapon.”

“My lord... is this wise?” Wonshik asked warily, eyeing the glinting steel in Jaehwan’s hands. 

“Sure it is! Jaehwan is better at weilding daggers than I am, and seeing you get your ass kicked for once will be a refreshing change,” Sanghyuk called, his grin getting wider.

“But- but with _ real _ weapons?”

“Think of it as an incentive to do well, but I'll try my hardest not to kill you,” Jaehwan replied, cracking his neck and stretching his arms above his head. 

It was with obvious trepidation that Wonshik moved back to the rack. He selected a rondel, an interesting choice. Longer than Jaehwan’s knives and a touch heavier. Slower as well. This should be fun to watch. 

“Normal rules, first to get a knife to the others body that would inflict a mortal blow wins, step outside the ring and you lose, yielding is permitted,” Sanghyuk said, snapping his fingers to signal the beginning of the bout. 

It was over in less than six seconds. Jaehwan moved like a snake, ducking under the swing of Wonshik’s blade and getting close enough to bring his closed fist down on his man’s wrist. He slashed away Wonshik’s rondel before the other had time to react, knocking it from his hand and spinning in place to execute a perfect round-house kick. His man was flat on his back, the Marquess sitting on his chest with his stiletto to Wonshik’s throat a moment later. 

“Holy shit,” his man breathed, coughing as Jaehwan stood and helped pull him to his feet.

“Language,” Sanghyuk chided, watching his brother brush the dirt from his knees.

“Please, at least _ try _ and give me a challenge this time.”

“How did you get so good, my lord?” Wonshik asked, eyeing Jaehwan with a new sort of respect and tossing his blade from hand to hand.

“I told you I'm no good with a sword, but the eldest son of a duke couldn’t be allowed to run around entirely unable to defend himself.”

“If we’re done with the chit chat?” Sanghyuk asked, chuckling at the rude hand gesture his brother flashed in his direction. “Again.”

The second bout went a similar way of the first, although to his credit, Wonshik managed to get in a few more moves before Jaehwan maneuvered behind him, standing with one blade to his jugular and another to the artery on his thigh. Sanghyuk saw Wonshik’s lids flutter the smallest bit, brown eyes darkening. It could have been from the danger, battle lust that affected even the most cowardly man. But, Sanghyuk thought, feeling his grin falter, he guessed it had more to do with the fact that Jaehwan’s body was pressed against his back.

“Come on, Wonshik. My lord brother is tiny, just throw him if you think it will help you win,” Sanghyuk called, standing straighter as the pair separated.

“Good luck catching me long enough to do that!” Jaehwan said happily, twirling his stilettos and taking up his ready-stance once more. Sanghyuk snapped his fingers and it started all over again. 

This time, Wonshik had apparently decided to use brute strength to attempt and match his brothers speed. He caught Jaehwan's arm when he tried to dart past, snaring both the Marquess’ wrists in one hand and dragging the rondel around towards his neck. Sanghyuk held his breath, worried for an instant, but his brother bent backwards to dodge. He used his momentum to twist free, stuck out a foot so Wonshik stumbled, and shoved him hard. The next breath, Jaehwan was crouching on top of him, blades crossed at the base of his man’s throat and panting. 

“You’re improving! That one was much more- _ oh,” _ Jaehwan said, starting out cheerful but his tone pitching higher with worry. In the haisty scuffle, he had opened up a shallow scratch on his man’s jaw. It trickled blood, slow, not a mortal wound by any means, but the Marquess dropped his knives on the sand beside them anyway. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a pure white handkerchief, pressing it to the cut and leaning in to inspect the damage. 

Sanghyuk bristled, noting the way Wonshik’s hand flitted up to his brother’s thigh, the small smile playing on his lips under Jaehwan’s _ inappropriately _ tender ministrations. They were too close by half, too familiar.

“Jaehwan, get up. We’ll give him a chance to practice on less skilled opponents before you try again. I don’t want him to accidentally get his throat slit without fighting in even a single tournament,” Sanghyuk said cooly, striding over and yanking his brother up by the elbow. Jaehwan squeaked indignantly, shooting the younger a look of pure poison.

“You dragged me out here, made me get all fancy to fight for roughly _ five _ minutes?” he snapped, shaking Sanghyuk off and sheathing his daggers. 

“Yes. I wanted to take the measure of his talent, and now I have. Go paint a still-life or something.”

Sanghyuk watched his brother secure his cloak around his neck, pull the hood up, and stomp from the training yard with the air of a small child being sent to their room. He resolved then and there to stop his brother and Wonshik’s private meetings. They needed to maintain boundaries, bonding be damned. 

☩☩☩☩☩

Jaehwan paced back and forth across his bedchamber, mind racing. 

Wonshik had been at the manor for just over three months. His first fight was the very next day. His first trip to the arena, and very possibly his last, would begin in less than twelve hours. 

Jaehwan wasn’t panicking because he thought his man was unskilled or unfit to fight. The truth was quite the opposite. Wonshik was better than the majority of Sanghyuk's men, proficient in most weaponry and only lacking prowess with a bow and with a dagger. But even in those two areas, he was more skilled than most. No, Jaehwan was panicking because there could be someone better. He could be sending his friend to his death and there was absolutely _nothing_ the Marquess could do about it. 

He had to see him. Had to see Wonshik. Jaehwan had visited his man that morning and would visit him again before the match, but Sanghyuk's constant presence stopped them from any meaningful conversations. His brother didn’t allow the two of them to be alone anymore, but that’s what Jaehwan needed in that moment. To be alone with his man if only for a few minutes. No hulking brother at his side. No chaperone. Just the two of them. 

Jaehwan tied the belt of his dressing gown around him, hurrying to his dressing screen and draping a floor length black cloak over his shoulders. He slid his bare feet into a pair of slippers, pulled his hood up over his head, and silently opened the door to the servants corridor. 

It was a good thing he and Sanghyuk had explored these passageways as children, because Jaehwan had the route out of the manor immovably fixed in his mind. Even so, it was with a pounding heart that he entered the dormitory. He stepped from shadow to shadow, mercifully not running into any guards on his way to his man's room. 

Jaehwan knocked quietly on the door, thanking the gods that his brother had set his man up in a single room, and slipped inside. 

Wonshik was there, staring wide-eyed where he stood by the small window, watching the Marquess pull the hood from his head. 

“I- I had to see you,” Jaehwan whispered, eyes locked with Wonshik from opposite sides of the room and hands held awkwardly at his sides. 

A beat of silence, a beat of stillness, and then Wonshik was moving towards him. Jaehwan met him halfway, falling into his man's waiting arms with the ease of stepping off a rooftop. 

Wonshik's hands were gentle, cradling his face like it was the most precious of jewels. His lips were soft, warm against Jaehwan's mouth. Jaehwan kissed him slow, deep, savoring the taste of his man on his tongue. 

The wind blowing in off the river drifted in through the open window, the chill of it sending a shiver down Jaehwan's body. But if the window was open, that could mean-

“Were you going to run?” he whispered, peering up into his man's warm brown eyes. 

“Never. I’d fight a thousand battles to stay by your side.”

The constant fear of being there, being in Wonshik's arms, fear of what it meant, of the feelings his man had planted in his heart. Feelings that had grown inside him like vines, curling around every part of him, snaring him entirely. The fear of rejection, of longing, of craving for something he could not have. It all melted away in that instant. 

Jaehwan traced the smooth bow of Wonshik's upper lip, goosebumps rising on his skin. A wordless question with a wordless answer, his man leaning in to kiss him once more. 

They stumbled backward, an awkward tangle of limbs and clumsy steps. Wonshik nearly fell as he sat on his mattress, Jaehwan tumbling down on top of him. The cloak around his neck slipped to the floor, quick fingers untying the knot holding his dressing gown closed. 

Jaehwan wove his fingers through his man’s dark hair, damp from that evenings bath. He licked into Wonshik's mouth, luxuriating in the sensation of hands on his hips. His waist. His back. Ever moving, ever shifting, like Wonshik couldn’t touch him enough. 

Their kiss broke for only a heartbeat, just long enough for Jaehwan to pull the rough-spun tunic off over Wonshik's head. Beneath, the garment gone, his body left Jaehwan breathless. Hard, sculpted muscle from years of training as a soldier and the past months of his brother's endless work-outs. 

“You’re exquisite,” he murmured, draping his arms around Wonshik's shoulders and pressing himself as close as possible. 

His mouth found Wonshik's neck, sucking gently at his pulse point and drawing a groan from the other. His man’s chest was heaving, hands hot under Jaehwan's silken slip, brushing up and down the sides of his torso. 

“My lord-“

“No,” Jaehwan said quietly, trailing kisses along one collar bone and then the other. “Just Jaehwan.”

He moved lower, teasing one nipple with his tongue, laving at the nub and caressing the other with his fingers. Wonshik pulled him back, head resting against the wall as their lips met. It lasted only a moment. 

“Jaehwan, I- I care for you, and if you’re only doing this because you think I might die tomorrow, out of some kind of pity, I’d rather we didn’t,” Wonshik said, warm brown eyes searching the Marquess’ face for an answer. 

“If you die... I’ll be broken,” Jaehwan replied, petting his man’s cheek. “I can’t give up this chance, what could be the only chance to be with the one most dear in my heart. I’d never forgive myself.” 

Jaehwan gasped as his dressing gown was pulled off his shoulders, slip drawn up over his head. 

“I’m dear to you?” his man asked, laying the Marquess down on the mattress. It could have been stuffed with nails for all Jaehwan noticed, he could feel nothing but the heat from his man's hands. 

“Yes, for some time now. My brother must have noticed, it’s why he won’t let us be alone anymore,” Jaehwan breathed, fumbling around to try and reach into the pocket of his dressing gown. It’s not like he hadn’t come prepared. His whimsical hopes had gotten the best of him several hours ago. 

Jaehwan's hand closed around the little vile of oil, lifting his hips so Wonshik could pull his cotton trousers off. His man arched a brow, Jaehwan only shrugging in response. He made to pour some on his fingers, but Wonshik snatched it away. 

“Let me,” he murmured, gently spreading the Marquess’ legs apart. Jaehwan caught his lip between his teeth, trying his absolute best to stay quiet as his man worked him open. First one finger, then two, then three, Jaehwan melting into the mattress as he was kissed senseless. 

When Wonshik finally pushed into him, Jaehwan bit the back of his arm to stifle his moans. His man stayed still, smoothing the furrow from Jaehwan’s brow and laying a series of pecks on his temple. He looked up into Wonshik’s eyes, the normal warm brown going dark with want. Jaehwan whimpered. 

☩☩☩☩☩

“In my dressing gown, the pocket,” Jaehwan mumbled, breath slow as he cuddled into his man’s bare chest. He felt thoroughly worn out, all the nervous energy worked from his muscles and leaving him drained. 

“What about it?” Wonshik asked, smoothing Jaehwan’s hair off his face and curling a few strands around his fingers. 

“Parchment, quill, ink,” the Marquess replied, nuzzling the crook of Wonshik’s neck. He smelled so good, Jaehwan couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Just him. 

“I thought you might want to write your family and tell them you love them. You don’t have too, but I’ll send it with a messenger in the morning if you do.”

Wonshik stopped mid-pet, leaning down to kiss Jaehwan on the mouth. It was quick, but so sweet that Jaehwan chased him when his man pulled away. 

“Thank you.”

Jaehwan rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin on his arms and watching as Wonshik found the supplies and used the window sill as a desk. His back was so broad, the tattoo between his shoulder blades glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. He really was _ beautiful, _ Jaehwan thought, listening to the scratch of the quill traveling across the parchment. 

It was still a good two hours until dawn, but Jaehwan knew he had to return to the manor. Wonshik needed sleep, he needed all his strength for the match and if he lost due to exhaustion, Jaehwan would never forgive himself. So, with a heavy heart, he pushed himself off the low pallet and began to dress. 

“Are you going somewhere?” Wonshik asked, glancing over his shoulder as Jaehwan pulled the silken slip back over his head. “I must return to the house. If I'm caught here, we’ll both be in trouble.”

Jaehwan took the folded parchment and slipped it into his pocket, wiping the quill dry on his slip. It was black so he didn’t care about stains. Wonshik helped fasten the cloak around his neck, pulling the hood up so his face was obscured. 

“You really have to leave?”

“Yes, my father would lock me in my room and you’d be beaten and put in solitary for touching me. It’s not worth it.”

“I don’t care about solitary, just stay,” his man hummed, strong hands coming to rest on Jaehwans waist. It was tempting, _ oh _ so tempting to stay, snuggle between Wonshik's arms for a few more hours, but-

“I won’t let you do that. And you need rest for the tournament,” Jaehwan replied, palming his man’s cheek and pressing a final, chaste kiss to his lips.

A pause. 

“Wonshik, I don't normally give you orders, do I?”

“No, you don’t.”

Jaehwan squared his shoulders, looking straight in the other’s warm brown eyes. 

“I _forbid_ you to die,” he said, tone sharp. Not as sharp as he would have liked, though, voice cracking on the word _die._

Wonshik leaned closer, brushing his lips over the Marquess' forehead. 

“Your word, my law.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally longer, but I took out random extraneous bits so it wouldn't be so boring? the final section is going to be a lot so hang in there with me lol <3
> 
> Also, I made a map of the country where this is set, so if you're a visual thinker like I am, [THIS](https://clytemnestrasrevenge95.tumblr.com/post/187296112182/his-warrior-kenvi-gladiator-au-map-of-my-made-up) might help

Sanghyuk glanced at his brother, the roaring crowd nearly deafening as the announcer signaled the opening of the tournament.

The sight still struck him as foreign, Jaehwan at a tournament when he almost never attended them. His brother was seated at his side, posture perfect and hands folded atop his crossed legs. He was dressed in a similar fashion to Sanghyuk, an indigo doublet of crushed velvet with obsidian buttons, black leather leggings and boots, a snowy cloak lined in white fur draped around his shoulders. He hadn’t touched his wine, which was a first, staring fixedly in front of him at the sand.

Beside Jaehwan sat Lord Hakyeon and Lord Taekwoon was on his other side, the Marquess de Lylore looking about as bored as the Marquess de Crensell looked excited. Hakyeon kept murmuring to his brother but Jaehwan would simply nod or shake his head, none of his usual happy chatter. 

The morning had gone as tourne mornings usually go. The brother's had gone to the lower part of the arena, each of their champions kneeling before them and kissing their rings in blessing for an auspicious match. Just one champion in Jaehwan's case, but it had still been _ quite _ a spectacle. The other nobles in their box had started muttering to one another as soon as Jaehwan came into view, and were still doing so. Worthless busybodies.

“Are you nervous,” Sanghyuk whispered, leaning in so he wouldn’t be overheard. 

“Intensely,” Jaehwan replied, fingers drumming out a rhythm on his knee. 

“It will be alright, your man is good. It won’t make you look bad if he loses, fighters lose all the time. It’s just how the game works,” Sanghyuk said, trying to be reassuring and apparently failing. 

Jaehwan whipped his head around, dark eyes like chips of ice. “Won’t make me _ look _ bad?” he hissed, hands curled into fists and relaxed again just as quickly. 

Sanghyuk shrugged. “We can always get you a new one.”

His brother scoffed, scooping up his glass and draining nearly the whole thing in one go. A servant appeared at his side to refill it as he looked back at the younger. “Do you have _ any _ regard for human life at all? Or is this just like playing with dolls to you?”

“I,” Sanghyuk began, but his retort was drowned out by the announcer's voice.

“Welcome, citizens of Bomora, ladies and gentlemen, honored nobles, to the twenty seventh Anathama games!”

The crowd roared their approval, most of the noise coming from the lowborn in the stands below. Their box was much more restrained, only clinking glasses or soft clapping. 

One by one, the fighters were introduced. Sanghyuk had arranged, well he had _ bribed _ the announcer to introduce his men at the end and Wonshik very last. It would leave the biggest impression on the crowd, keep them fresh in their minds. His men paraded out in their matching silver breastplates and helms of emerald feathers. Hongbin, his champion, went last, visor pushed up as he twirled his long sword above his head. His odd signature move, but he had told Sanghyuk once that it gave him good luck. 

As he’d requested, there was a beat of silence as the crowd quieted, assuming all the players were on the field. And then-

“Premiering in his debut match, fighting for the glory of the Marquess de Anathama himself, The Raven!”

Jaehwan shifted, sitting impossibly straight and gripping his wineglass so tight Sanghyuk was worried it would shatter. Such things weren’t abnormal on the sand, nicknames and costumes. The people loved the pageantry and warmly embraced warriors with character. But his brother, with his penchant for theatrics, had taken it a step further. 

Wonshik walked through the portcullis to a collective gasp. He was dressed head to toe in black leather. Studded boots, a shirt of chainmail, spaulder on his right shoulder, wrist and shin guards _ all _ made of matte black steel. A black kerchief was tied over his nose and mouth, eyes rimmed in heavy kohl, and a single ravens feather wrapped into his hair so it stood up behind his ear in place of a helm. Jaehwan had given his man belladonna drops to make his irises appear darker, and had the light armor custom made with matching roundel and broadsword strapped to his back. It was... impressive. To say the least. 

He came to stand before the box, sweeping an elegant bow as the crowd burst into wild applause. Jaehwan managed a smile, raising his glass in toast, before Wonshik took his place in the ring with the others. That had gone better than expected. 

“But, but Jaehwan, that’s-“

Hakyeon’s words choked off in a cough when Jaehwan stomped on his foot, and he wisely didn’t try any further inquiries. 

“This match will be a Battle Grande!” the announcer said, voice carrying over the stands with ease.

Oh... _ oh shit. _

“The final four warriors standing will be crowned victor, and he with the most points scored will be champion! A point is earned for each fallen opponent, and will be counted by the executors to be announced at the end of the match!”

_ Shit. Shit, shit, shit! _ Nobody knew what the game would be until it was announced! Sanghyuk had entered six of his men in the game which, while it gave him strong odds of winning, meant that he would lose two at the very least! “Damn it,” he muttered, sipping from his own glass, but it didn’t seem like anyone heard. 

“At the sound of the horn, the game begins! Blood and glory!”

“Blood and glory!” the crowd echoed, stomping their feet as the trumpets blared. And then the match began. 

Keeping one eye on Hongbin, Sanghyuk tracked his brother’s man. Wonshik moved across the sand like a viper, drawing his sword in a single swift flourish. 

The beginning of a Battle Grande was always a kull. The weaker opponents were quickly weeded out, six men dead in the first minute. One to Hongbin, one to his second best, and _ two _ to Wonshik. Chancing a glance to his right, Sanghyuk saw his brother's eyes were shut, mouth forming silent words that looked almost like a prayer. 

Returning his attention to the sand, Sanghyuk noted that the formalities were over. The _ proper _ fighting had begun. Hongbin and another of his men had paired up, swiftly dispatching a warrior belonging to some duke or other, and Wonshik was facing off with Hakyeon's champion. The man's helm was shaped like the head of a lion, uniform the color of hearts-blood, armor glittering gold, and he roared ferociously as Wonshik stepped up to meet him. 

It was fast. Hakyeon's man was strong but Wonshik was more agile without all the clunky armor. He slipped inside the man’s guard and slashed at his blade with the broadsword. The man wobbled, trying to regain his balance but Wonshik had already ducked under his arm, skidding behind him and thrusting the roundel up under the mans spaulder and into his back. Hakyeon's champion fell with a clang and a hollow thud, the crowd roared as blood stained the sand a bright red. 

“Jaehwan, look!” Sanghyuk urged, nudging his brother's elbow, “You just beat Hakyeon!”

“I didn’t beat anyone. Wonshik beat Hakyeon,” Jaehwan murmured, sipping from his glass with his eyes still shut. Hakyeon gave an indignant huff that went largely ignored. 

Two of Sanghyuk's men were down but he still had four. One of them, not his best fighter but as brave as the rest, charged at Wonshik, swinging his blade in a fierce overhead arch that the other neatly dodged. Wonshik opened a deep cut on the man’s thigh and the swift strike sent him toppling to his knees. With a ferocity Sanghyuk would not have believed if he wasn’t seeing it with his own two eyes, Jaehwan’s man aimed a savage kick at the downed fighters head, steel-studded boot connecting so hard that the sound of his neck breaking was audible all the way up in their box.

“You beat me too, partially,” Sanghyuk said, raising his glass to his mouth as Jaehwan swallowed hard. 

It was a _ complete _ bloodbath. Hongbin took down another two opponents the young lord didn’t recognize, and then he realized both of Taekwoon’s fighters were approaching Wonshik at once. The first slashed at his arm, drawing a shallow cut and slicing clean through the chainmail while the second charged from the front. Wonshik rolled left, coming back up on his feet with unnerving speed. Roundel flashing, the first man cried out as he fell, scarlet spraying from under his helm. His throat had been cut so deep that the crowd could see a hint of spine. 

The second man flew at him but Wonshik dodged again, kicking a clump of sand up into his eyes and plunging his sword through the mans chest, puncturing his breastplate all the way down to the hilt. The blade sparkled red when he pulled it free, screams from the crowd so loud that it shook the arena floor. 

And it was done. Hongbin was the only one of Sanghyuk's men left standing, one who he thought belonged to Hakyeon's father, one he didn’t know, and Wonshik. 

“Open your eyes, Hwannie, it’s over,” Sanghyuk said. His brother listened this time, eyes going almost comically wide at the sight of the gore laid out before them. 

“Your victors!” the announcer called. The mob bellowed in delight as Hongbin and the others lifted their swords in triumph. Wonshik did nothing, simply sheathed his blades and turned to look up at their box. At Jaehwan. There was crimson splattered over his face, the cut on his arm bleeding slowly, but other than that he was completely unharmed. Jaehwan sucked in a breath, hand fluttering to his throat. 

“... and in second place, Hongbin!” Sanghyuk looked around, clapping in as dignified a manner as he could. 

“In first place, champion of the Battle Grande... The Raven of the Marquess de Anathama! Blood and glory!”

Wonshik bowed as the crowd screamed, _ “Raven! Raven! Raven!” _

“Jaehwan, you have to stand up,” Hakyeon said, jostling him, but Jaehwan seemed frozen to his chair. 

“Come on, get up,” Sanghyuk urged, pinching his brother's arm none too gently. Jaehwan stood on unsteady legs, blowing the crowd a kiss before collapsing back into his chair. They all watched as an executor placed a silver champion’s laurel on Wonshik’s head.

“Congratulations on your rather _ unexpected _ victory, Jaehwan-ah,” Taekwoon said, holding out his glass so a servant could refill it.

“Not my victory, Wonshik’s.”

“Both of yours,” Sanghyuk replied, dropping his arm around his brother’s shoulders as the warriors left the sand. It was an execution bout next, prisoners condemned to death put down for the amusement of the mob-

“I’m going to be sick,” Jaehwan mumbled, standing abruptly and turning to hurry from the box. 

“Wait, you have to collect the victors purse!”

“You take it, I don’t need the money.”

Sanghyuk watched him go, settling back in his chair with a sigh. “My brother is of a delicate constitution, he probably just had too much wine.”

None of them believed that, what Jaehwan _ had _ was no stomach for bloodshed. Hakyeon gave the young lord a side-long look, but Taekwoon stood.

“I’ll get him. I have no more entries in these games. You two enjoy yourselves.”

☩☩☩☩☩

Jaehwan was on his knees, crouching on the marble floor of the washroom and puking up bile. He hadn’t eaten anything, having no appetite with the knowledge of the death he was going to witness, so there was nothing for his body to expel. 

“Jaehwan-ah, are you there?” the soft voice of the Marquess de Lylore called, knocking at the door. 

Jaehwan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yes, I’ll be right out,” he called back, sounding about as shaky as he felt. Despite his words, the door opened and Taekwoon slipped inside, blonde hair falling into his eyes, asking a servant for a glass of water before he shut the door behind him. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Like sickness incarnate.”

Taekwoon stepped to the washbasin, wetting a hand towel and coming to kneel at Jaehwan's side. “Your brother said you had too much to drink.”

Jaehwan scoffed, taking the towel from his friend and dabbing at the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t have _ enough _ to drink, that was a horrific spectacle”

“It gets easier, the blood doesn’t seem so bad after a few tournaments.”

“You get desensitized to the violence, you mean. That fact doesn’t make it any less _ gruesome _ in reality.”

“Well,” Taekwoon sighed, moving to accept the water from the servant and shooing him off. “Your champion won regardless. Would you have preferred that he died?”

“No. I just wish innocent men didn’t have to perish so one of them could be praised for murder.”

The Marquess de Lylore caught Jaehwan’s chin in his hand, turning the younger’s face up so their eyes met. 

“There is no _ murder _ on the sand Jaehwan-ah. There are no fathers, no brothers, no friends. There is only a man and a threat. Your champion did what he had to do to survive.”

Jaehwan blinked. He saw the sense in that statement, saw the truth in it, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. 

“Would speaking to your champion make you feel better?” Taekwoon asked, releasing the younger and watching Jaehwan swirl water around in his mouth. It would. It would make Jaehwan feel _ immeasurably _ better. He wanted to see Wonshik, hold him, touch him. Tend his hurts and kiss them better. That kind of thing would have to wait until the night time. When he could sneak away and-

“Yes, go enjoy the rest of the games. Thank you for your sympathies,” Jaehwan replied, all though his friend had offered none. No one ever _ sympathized _ with him really, not even his friends. Indulged his _ hysteria, _ pitied and patronized and babied? Sure. But sympathized? Never. 

They both stood, Taekwoon patting his shoulder and leading the way out of the washroom. “Do you wish me to escort you down before I return to the box?” the elder asked, folding his hands behind his back. 

_ Escort _ him. Always escorted, always accompanied, always chaperoned. Always led around like he was a dog prone to misbehaving, collared and leashed. Jaehwan straightened, standing at his full height and giving his friend and empty smile. “That’s quite alright, but thank you for your kind offer.”

With that, Jaehwan turned on his heels and moved away down the hall in a swirl of white fur. 

A few minutes later, the Marquess was coming to regret turning his friend down. There were guards everywhere, even soldiers, but Jaehwan kept his eyes fixed stubbornly forwards. He remembered the way to the Lee’s holding chamber from that morning, when Wonshik had to bow and kiss his ring. That had been an _ ordeal. _

“The Marquess de Anathama!” a guard announced, holding the door open for Jaehwan to stroll through. 

His heart jumped into his throat. Wonshik was there, reclining in a high-backed chair as a medic stitched up his arm. The majority of his armor was off, kerchief pulled down around his neck, leather jerkin unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up. He had glanced toward the door when it opened, Sanghyuk’s fighter and the two medics both bowing deeply. But Wonshik hadn’t moved. 

“Your name is Hongbin, yes?” Jaehwan asked, shooting his brother's champion a sidelong look. The man bowed again, clapping a hand to his chest. Wonshik was still staring. 

“Yes, my lord.”

Jaehwan turned away, putting on an air of disinterest and waving at the medics. “Clear the room, I need to speak with my champion.”

The three left without a word, moving into the adjacent chamber and closing the door with a soft click. Jaehwan faced his man, heart ratcheting inside his chest. 

“My lord?”

Jaehwan flew at him, nearly collapsing atop in man in his desperation. Wonshik's arms circled him, clutching him tight and pulling the Marquess down onto his lap. He was really there, still there, warm and breathing and above all else, _ alive. _

“You didn’t die?!” Jaehwan asked, breathless, cupping his mans cheeks between his palms. 

“You forbid it.” 

A small grin crossed Wonshik’s face, looking the elder over. “You look like a prince, my lord,” he murmured, deftly popping open the top button of Jaehwan's doublet. 

“Don’t change the subject!” Jaehwan squeaked, catching his man’s hand and shoving it away. “How are you feeling?! How badly are you injured?! That must have been absolutely awful!”

Wonshik smiled at him, fingers snaking under Jaehwan's cloak and resting on the small of his back. “It wasn’t _ fun _ by any means, but in truth the sand isn’t all that different from a battlefield. I’ll manage,” he replied, bouncing his knee a little to coax another squeak from the Marquess. 

“And injuries?!” Jaehwan asked, hearing how shrill he sounded but unable to subdue it just yet. “Only my arm, and I’m fairly sure my side is bruised from getting kneed in the stomach, but other than that, I’m fine.”

“But your poor arm!” 

Jaehwan was fussing, he recognized that, but still! His man was sweaty and bleeding and- and _ laughing _ at him!?

“How dare you laugh at your lord! I am simply reassuring myself of my champions well-being!” Jaehwan snapped, trying to ignore Wonshik’s low chuckle. He was so relieved. The weight that had been riding on his shoulders since he left his man's room the night previous was finally starting to dissipate. Wonshik was _ alive. _

“Deepest apologies, my glorious Marquess. You just look very cute when you’re fretting.”

Jaehwan pouted his lips, sparing a moment to lose himself in his man's smile. It was still very new, being able to sit there and touch Wonshik, unafraid of rejection or criticism. In private at least. But private was enough. Jaehwan wasn’t a greedy man, he’d take what he could get and be thankful for every second of it. 

“This _ is _ a very princely get up though, not that I’ve ever actually seen a prince, but it’s what I’d imagine a prince would look like,” his man said, grinning and booping Jaehwan’s nose. The Marquess recoiled, immediately flustered, shaking his head like a dog with water in it’s ears. His reaction simply made Wonshik laugh again.

“Well,” Jaehwan replied, tugging on his man’s earlobe in a rather lame form of retaliation, “I _ am _ second in line for the throne. I have to look the part.”

“Are you?” Wonshik asked, eyes widening in disbelief. The Marquess sighed.

“Yes! It goes the crown prince, then the king's siblings if he has any, then the Duke de Anathema, then Crensell, then Lylore, and so on. I’m sure you know that the king has no brothers and no children, bless him, so my father is next in line for the throne at the moment. Then I’d be next, then my children, then Sanghyuk, and unless my brother has a bastard or two running around which wouldn’t surprise me, then it would be Hakyeon. What are they teaching you in schools these days!”

“What crops to grow at what times of the year, how to manage a household, basic arithmetic,” his man rattled off, grinning as Jaehwan snapped his mouth shut. He was being insensitive again. 

“Of course, apologies,” the Marquess said, lowering his eyes and fiddling with the kerchief still tied around Wonshik’s neck.

“No offence taken.”

Wonshik reached up to cup his cheek, leaning closer, his mouth perilously close to-

“Stop,” Jaehwan murmured, hating himself. “I- I was ill, not but a few minutes ago. Kissing would be unpleasant for you.” 

Wonshik simpered, dropping a peck on Jaehwan's forehead instead. “You really are a soft one, my lord, such a sweetheart. Was it hard for you to watch?”

“I have a weak stomach when it comes to blood, I don’t know how you managed to- to... to.” Jaehwan couldn’t bring himself to say the word _ kill. _Killing was something one only had to do in the most dire circumstances, like a threat to ones own life or a threat to a loved one. But he still couldn't say it. Not after witnessing the carnage on the sand. He had kept his eyes nearly closed most of the time, so it appeared that he didn’t watch. But Jaehwan _ had _ watched. He’d watched through his lashes, watched his champion cut men down like a knife through butter. There hadn’t been a choice for Jaehwan, he couldn’t close his eyes when Wonshik could die at any moment. He had put Wonshik in that position, put him in that danger, put him in that peril. It was Jaehwan’s _ responsibility _ to watch. 

And yes, it had been _ hard. _ It had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done in his entire life. Playing weak? Easy. Playing rude? Piece of cake. Playing stupid? Not a problem. Watching everyone fawn over his brother? Jaehwan could deal with it. Listening to everyone endlessly criticize him? Jaehwan could laugh that off. But watching this man he cared for trade blows with people just as big and strong as he was? Listening to the crowd scream as his man was drenched in enemy blood? No. It cut Jaehwan's _ heart to pieces. _

“Yes. It was difficult. And, I’m... I am sorry. I am so sorry you had to do such reprehensible things in my name.” 

Jaehwan felt himself start to choke up but he didn’t cry. He had beaten the urge to cry out of himself before he turned twelve. There was no room for tears in the life of a Marquess unless he was alone in the safety of his bedchamber. In the dark. And the quiet. He wouldn’t cry in front of his man, he couldn’t, so Jaehwan simply swallowed hard. 

Wonshik was looking at the Marquess like he could read his mind, read the thoughts swirling around inside his head. He could see the understanding in his man's eyes, and it _ broke _ something deep in Jaehwan's core. 

“Jaehwan,” Wonshik murmured, reaching up to run his fingers through the Marquess’ hair. It was so gentle, not many people really touched Jaehwan like that. It was always hungry. Always hungry needy wanting hands on him but this was so... the affection of it drove into the new crack inside him and broke him even deeper. 

“I should be the one comforting you, this is absurd,” Jaehwan replied, sliding backwards off his man's lap. He needed to remain composed. They weren’t at the manor, it wasn’t night time, someone could return at any moment. It wasn’t safe.

Wonshik looked at him as he started to pace, warm brown eyes tracking him like he was watching a trapped animal. 

“Jaehwan, come sit down. Simply watching you is making me anxious.”

The Marquess folded his hands behind his back, shaking the momentary lapse in judgment off and moving to the other side of the chamber. “You need a medic, your arm needs to be tended and I want them to check that bruise to make sure it’s nothing more-“

“My lord brother.”

Jaehwan froze in his tracks, thanking the gods that he'd gotten off his man's lap when he did.

“Sanghyuk. Why aren’t you watching the bout?” he asked, turning to face his brother standing in the doorway. Sanghyuk looked blank. Actually, it looked like he was mimicking Jaehwan's own hauty mask. It was an unnerving thing to see on his brother's normally expressive face. 

“Congratulations on your victory, champion. You brought great honor to my lord brother, and I am sure he’s already conveyed his gratitude.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

Jaehwan turned, risking a glance back at his man. Wonshik had stood up, probably a smart move, but his head wasn’t bowed. Chin held high, shoulders back, not exactly _ defiant _ but... it was one of the traits Jaehwan liked most about Wonshik. He was so brave and so, _ so _ strong. 

“Come, Jaehwan. The carriage is ready to take us back to the manor and the medic needs to attend your champion,” Sanghyuk said, holding a hand out and essentially sweeping the elder from the room. 

Jaehwan walked at his brother's side, both quiet all the way down the hall, out of the arena entrance and down the steps. It was only once they were in the carriage did his brother finally speak. 

“How did you get blood on your cloak?”

“Pardon?”

“Blood. There is blood on the side of your cloak.”

Jaehwan glanced down and saw it. The streak of red staining the white fur just above his elbow. 

“That’s a shame, I like this one,” the Marquess replied, crossing his legs and leaning his head up against the carriage wall. “The medic bumped into me on his way out, did you see him? Absolutely _ covered _ in blood, revolting.”

That wasn’t it. Wonshik hugging him, his arm was still bleeding. But Jaehwan wasn’t going to say that out loud. No reason to get himself or his man in trouble. 

“Why are we leaving early? Aren’t there more bouts?” Changing the subject seemed like a wise course of action. 

“We accomplished what needed to be accomplished. You claimed your laurel, no reason to draw this out.”

Privately, Jaehwan thought there was another reason for their early departure, but his brother wouldn’t tell him until he was ready. They had that trait in common. Stubbornness. 

☩☩☩☩☩

“Your champion is in solitary.”

Jaehwan whipped his head up, straightening his posture, the documents he had been absorbed in now entirely forgotten. “What?!”

“Your champion, he’s in solitary,” Sanghyuk repeated, shutting the door to his brother's office and coming to stand before his wide oak desk. 

The young lord had gone to the dormitory early that morning, answering a summons from the lead trainer to _ ‘come at once, as soon as convenient.’ _ When he arrived, the frantic man had explained that Wonshik had gotten in a fight with another warrior, a bad one, and since Jaehwan had banned them from punishing him in any physical way, they had confined him in solitary until Sanghyuk told them what to do. 

So now, Sanghyuk was here. Because _ he too _ had been banned from punishing the man and needed to try and convince his kindhearted brother to let him do so. What a great way to start a morning. 

“Why?! Remove him from solitary this instant!” Jaehwan snapped, standing and bracing his hands on the desktop. 

“Jaehwan he was brawling.”

“That’s his job!”

“No, I mean he beat the other man half to death. In the dining hall, not in the ring.”

Jaehwan paled, eyes widening and mouth going slack. “Did he say why?!”

“It would seem,” Sanghyuk replied, trying to word his answer as tactfully as possible, “One of father's men was speaking about you in a manner that was inappropriate.”

His brother's eyes went from wide to slits in the space of a blink. “What did they say?”

Sanghyuk hesitated. He knew exactly what the man had said, how nasty the remarks were. And if he was honest, Sanghyuk wanted to beat the man himself for letting those filthy words out of his mouth. 

“The usual- usual remarks,” the younger replied, looking around the room to try and avoid eye contact. His brother knew he was holding back, they could always tell when the other was lying or keeping secrets. That’s how he was able to tell that there was _ something _ going on between Jaehwan and his champion. It didn’t have to be said aloud. 

“So Wonshik was standing up for me?” Jaehwan asked. Sanghyuk nodded. “Then why is he being punished?!”

“Jaehwan, we cannot just allow them to get away with violence. Brawling is never tolerated no matter the reason.”

His brother nudged the chair out from behind him and made a beeline for the office door. “Where are you going?” Sanghyuk called, hurrying after him. 

“To speak to my champion and to speak with the man that was insulting me.”

Sanghyuk snagged his brother's wrist and pulled him to a halt. “No you’re not! Discipline and training and all the _ dealing, _ as you like to put it, with the fighters is my responsibility. I just needed your permission to handle the situation the way it _ needs _ to be handled.”

Jaehwan shook him off, hard. “I _ am _ going to speak to them and I don’t care if you come with me or not,” he snapped, continuing through the hallway and turning to stomp down the staircase. Sanghyuk huffed, not _ exactly _ stomping after him but making his annoyance known. 

They walked to the dormitory, Jaehwan in the lead, and everyone in the courtyard fell dead silent as soon as they entered. 

“Who’s in charge?” Jaehwan snapped, crossing his arms and addressing the closest trainer.

“I believe you are at the moment, my lord.”

Jaehwan hissed, whirling and stomping inside the dormitory toward solitary. It wasn’t that large of an area, a few cells with no bars, solid doors that only had a little flap in them. It was a harsh punishment to be sure, but they were almost never used. And there were worse things. 

“Open it,” his brother ordered, waving at the guard on duty at the cell door. The guard looked to Sanghyuk, because he was an _ idiot _ apparently, and the young lord quickly nodded. He could feel the temper tantrum brewing next to him and ignoring his brother's orders would only make it worse. 

The bolt slid with a clang, hinges creaking, and Jaehwan stalked into the cell with his hands behind his back. 

“Wonshik?!”

His man wasn’t lounging around for once, pacing the length of the cell with hatred in his eyes when he turned them on Sanghyuk. “I will _ not _ apologize,” were the first words out of his mouth, and while it didn’t surprise the young lord, it did irritate him no end. 

“Wonshik, _ why _ did you get in a fight?! I told you that people insult me behind my back all the time!” Jaehwan exclaimed, waving his hands around in the air. 

“That’s not the point! If I fight for your honor, it isn’t going to be confined to the arena! And the things that piece of shit was saying about you were inexcusable-”

“Language,” Sanghyuk chided, but that only earned him a glare from both his brother and his champion. 

Jaehwan huffed, walking over to examine his man’s bruised hands. The skin there was black and blue, knuckles swollen and split in a few places, but it was nothing compared to his opponent. “Wonshik, please let my brother handle these sorts of things. I don’t want you hurting yourself unnecessarily.”

Silence filled the room for a few moments as Wonshik and Jaehwan looked at eachother. It was more of a staring contest actually, but his man eventually relented with a sullen sounding “Your word, my law.” 

“Good,” Jaehwan replied, turning on his heels and leaving the cell. “Confine him to his quarters for the time being, and send a medic to tend to his hands.”

That was too lenient a punishment by half, but Sanghyuk knew arguing further would be futile. At least his brother was allowing Wonshik to be punished at all. The young lord passed on the instructions to the guards before following his brother in the direction of the infirmary. 

“If I may make a suggestion, lord brother,” Sanghyuk tried, resting a hand on Jaehwan’s shoulder, “Don’t speak to the one that offended you.”

“And why _ not?! _ I’m tired of it!”

“Don’t stoop, don’t let people see how much it truly bothers you. Don’t give them that pleasure and don’t show them any weakness.”

☩☩☩☩☩

Jaehwan panted, the pads of his fingers pressing into his man’s bare chest. He rolled his hips, smooth slow circles, trying to take in as much of his man as he could. His back arched, eyes locked on Wonshik as the heat coiling in the pit of his stomach started to burn in ernest. 

Wonshik's hands tightened around his waist, holding him in place as he thrust up into the Marquess just a little, just enough. A whine escaped Jaehwan, and he could feel his man's heartbeat against his palm. It was fast, as fast as Jaehwan's own, like the beating of butterfly wings. 

_ “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” _ he chanted under his breath, trying not to choke on the little noises of pleasure spilling from his throat. 

Wonshik thrust up into him again, a bit harder, fingers skimming up and down the length of Jaehwan's spine as the Marquess half slumped, half collapsed on his chest. _ “Jaehwan,” _his man breathed, his hand curling around the nape of Jaehwan’s neck. The Marquess was sure his name had never sounded sweeter than it did on Wonshik’s lips. 

Their kiss was as warm as his man’s brown eyes, open-mouthed and almost sloppy. Jaehwan shuddered, oblivion rolling through his body as he spent himself on both their stomachs. His man wasn’t far behind him, pulsing inside him, pushing right to the edge of overstimulation. 

“You’re marvelous, truly,” Wonshik mumbled, hugging Jaehwan against him as their breathing began to slow. The Marquess hummed, laying soft kisses on his man’s jaw, eyes closed and body slack. He would be content to lie there for the next year, but it still wasn’t safe. He needed to begin the _ process _ of returning to the manor. 

“Do you like children?”

Wonshik looked down at him, brow furrowed in confusion. “Yes, but what’s this about? Already planning to start a family with me?” he asked, a tease in his tone but still kind. Always kind. He knew as well as Jaehwan that they could never have a family together, but it was a very pleasant thought nonetheless. 

“My daughter is coming to stay with me for a while,” Jaehwan replied, inhaling the slightly musky smell lingering on his man’s skin. Even his smell was warm, something like cinnamon and-

“You have a _ daughter?!” _Wonshik exclaimed, sitting bolt upright and jostling the Marquess who rolled right off the pallet. 

“Shh! Do you want us to get caught?! And yes, I do!” Jaehwan whisper-shouted, rubbing the back of his head where he’d smacked it on the floor. 

“How?”

Jaehwan narrowed his eyes, looking incredulously at his man. “My wife had a baby?”

“You’re _ married?!” _

“Only by the strictest legal definition, now will you _ please _ lower your voice?”

Wonshik gaped at him in disbelief. “Where is your wife?! I’ve never seen her! And you’ve _ never _ mentioned her before!”

“She lives at our villa in the north with my daughter,” Jaehwan replied, taking the small towel he’d brought with him and dampening it with water from the basin. Cleaning himself up wasn’t a very dignified spectacle, but he tried to ignore the way his man was staring at him. 

“We’re childhood friends, you see, she does know what I- about my preferences, we’re very open with each other. But being the eldest son of a duke doesn't really give you the option not to marry,” he added, trying to explain himself a bit. 

“So... so if you’re daughter is coming to visit, does that mean your wife is coming as well?”

“No,” Jaehwan sighed, slipping his cotton trousers back on. “My wife is unwell. She gets headaches. Nari comes and stays with me when she needs peace and quiet.”

“Nari?”

“Nari is my daughters name. She’s four and a half.” Jaehwan paused, a little smile curving up the corners of his mouth. “She’s the light of my life.”

Wonshik blinked at him, still sitting on the pallet with the sheet around his waist. His expression was so...

“I can feel your judgment all the way over here, what’s the problem?” Jaehwan asked, pulling his silk tunic on over his head. His man was pouting. _ Pouting. _

“Don’t know how I feel about sleeping with a married man.”

Jaehwan bit back a sigh. He shrugged on his dressing gown and padded over to the bed, crawling up so he was straddling his man’s hips. “Listen, love, it’s a marriage for politics sake _ only. _ We are very close friends and only did what was necessary to- to ensure our families lineage was secure. I’m thankful I wasn’t married off to some horrible woman! Do you understand?”

“You just called me love.”

The Marquess snapped his mouth shut. Wonshik had been with him for six months now. They had been doing _ this _ for half that time. He’d won two more tournaments in Jaehwan’s name. Would it be so wrong for Jaehwan to-

“Well. Well, you _ are _ my lover. And- and you’re very dear to me. Should I not call you that?”

“What’s your wife's name?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“No, I just thought it would be polite to ask since I’m sleeping with her husband.”

“Wonshik, don’t be like that. Please. I happen to know she has several very enthusiastic footmen who cater to her every need. She’s not neglected in the slightest, and they can... entertain her much better than I can. That was our agreement, once we had an heir we could be with whoever we like.”

“Fine.” His man was still pouting, but he dropped a grudging peck on Jaehwan’s cheek. The Marquess smiled, hugging on him and dotting kisses all over his face until he began to squirm. Paper crinkled in Jaehwan’s pocket. 

“Oh! I almost forgot, a letter came for you!” he exclaimed, sitting back and extricating the folded parchment from his pocket. He had been sending and receiving letters for Wonshik to his family for a while now, and they had a good routine going. He knew how happy it made his man, being able to communicate with his loved ones, so Jaehwan helped him gladly. He’d do almost anything to see Wonshik smile.

“Why didn’t you give it to me earlier!” his man exclaimed, snagging it and breaking the seal. Now it was Jaehwan’s turn to pout.

“I was going to, love, but you started taking my clothes off before I even shut the door all the way. I was a bit distracted.”

His man glanced at him when he heard the word _ ‘love’, _ but the Marquess simply smiled. 

“I guess that’s a valid excuse. How long is your daughter going to be staying for?” Wonshik asked absently, the majority of his attention focused on his letter. 

“Two months, unless I can convince her mother to let me keep her longer. I’m taking her with me when I go to the capital, which is another thing I wanted to discuss with you actually-”

Wonshik had lowered the parchment, staring at Jaehwan with laser-like focus.

“What? Is something wrong? Is your family alright?”

“My sister is at university.”

“Oh?” 

“Yes. It seems that she was granted a scholarship. The,” he looked back at the parchment, eyes narrowed, “The royal scholarship for exceptional young women.”

Jaehwan did his utmost not to look shifty. “Well, that’s excellent! Your sister is very smart, she’s the perfect candidate for a scholarship such as that.”

“She didn’t apply for it. They just received a letter laying out all the arrangements and saying her tuition had been paid for in full by this scholarship.”

Jaehwan ran a hand through his hair, tracing his man’s collar bones with the tips of his fingers. “I _ may _ have put her name down for it, I can’t think of anyone more deserving of higher education. Does that anger you?”

A moment's pause, Wonshik slid an arm around Jaehwan’s back and pulled him into a gentle kiss. The Marquess hummed, slinging his arms over his man’s shoulders, delighted. 

“Thank you.”

☩☩☩☩☩

Kim Wonshik was a slave. He was a slave to one of the most powerful men in the country of Bomora, but he was _ still _ a slave. There was no getting around that fact. Jaehwan treated him with dignity, was sweet to him, embraced him, but Jaehwan was _ still _ his master. There was no getting around _that_ fact either. 

Sometimes, in the moonlit night with Jaehwan in his arms, just the two of them, Wonshik could forget what he was. What he had become. But in moments like this, when he was trying to fend off Hongbin who was armed with a broadsword and he only had a dagger, the realization came crashing back. 

“You’ve got to be quicker, Wonshik,” Sanghyuk called from where he was sitting,_ sitting, _ in the shade at the edge of the practice ring. 

Wonshik groaned, dodging a rather ferocious swipe of his opponent's sword and trying to skid around him that way he had seen Jaehwan do so many times. The maneuver ended rather tragically with him sprawled on his stomach in the sand and Hongbin’s sword at his neck. This was ridiculous. Wonshik was trained for swords not daggers. It was like being asked to play a flute when you were only trained to play a violin. He was improving, but it wasn’t good enough. Wasn’t happening _ fast _ enough for the young lord’s liking. 

Hongbin lowered his wooden sword, reaching down to help Wonshik to his feet. Wonshik actually liked Hongbin a lot. He was kind and loyal and extremely brave. But his master was another matter. Wonshik wasn’t fond of the way the rest of the men seemed to worship the ground Sanghyuk walked on. As if the young lord was some prestigious warrior instead of their owner. 

A carriage came into view on the road beside the dormitory and Sanghyuk shot to his feet. “Take a break, drink some water. I’ll be back,” he called over his shoulder, already halfway to the door. 

“I wonder who it is,” Hongbin murmured, laying his practice sword on the rack and moving to the fence. Wonshik followed suit, peering curiously into the courtyard. 

This was one of the rare days that Jaehwan wasn’t up on the balcony watching, and it took Wonshik a few moments to remember why. 

“My lord’s daughter is arriving today,” he replied, watching the carriage come to a stop. Jaehwan and Sanghyuk were both at the manor’s entrance, but his lord flew down the stairs as soon as the door opened. 

“You’re _ are _ very close with him if he tells you things such as this,” Hongbin said, smiling a bit as a very small girl came tumbling out of the carriage. Wonshik could hear Jaehwan’s excited squeal from thirty feet away just as clearly as if his lord was standing right beside him. 

Jaehwan’s daughter was undeniably adorable, shiny black hair in plaits down her back and a pink fur cloak draped over a silk dress. She even had miniature boots that laced up almost to her knees. But her resemblance to her father was _ striking. _ Same mouth, same eyes, similarly pointy ears. The only difference was the nose. She had a very dainty little nose. Wonshik couldn’t stop the grin that crossed his face when Jaehwan scooped her up and twirled her over his head. 

“Lady Nari has grown since she was last here,” Hongbin said, turning away to fill a clay mug with water.

“She’s been here before? You’ve seen her?”

“Of course. My lord always brings her around and introduces her to the fighters. Everyone adores her, my lord is very proud of his niece.” Oh, right. Sanghyuk would be the girl's uncle. Great. 

“Dada!” the girl shrieked, talking a mile a minute as Jaehwan balanced her on his hip. It seemed as though she had inherited her father’s volume, not just his looks. If the mother was prone to headaches, having them both around at the same time must drive her to distraction. 

An older women had stepped from the carriage a bit slower, maybe in her fifties, greying hair and a face that was stern but kind. The nanny, if Wonshik had to guess. Sanghyuk had bowed to her, actually _ bowed _ to someone, and was giving her a warm hug as the footmen began to unload trunks from the carriage.

“The matron, I can’t remember her name, cared for my lord and Lord Jaehwan when they were children,” Hongbin said helpfully. 

Jaehwan had set his daughter down and she was running back and forth between him and Sanghyuk, doing an excited sort of hop every few steps. _ Poor thing had probably been cooped up in that carriage all day, needed to stretch her little legs, _ Wonshik thought, moving to Hongbin’s side and gulping down water. It was a chilly November afternoon, but practice always warmed him up so much that he’d have suffocated if someone tried to put a cloak on him. 

“If I may give you a word of warning,” his friend continued, refilling his cup with a serious expression on his face, “Don’t speak ill of Lady Nari.”

“Why would I speak ill of my lords child? Why would anyone?” Wonshik asked, taken aback. 

“Some people are stupid. One of the men, a truly unpleasant sort if I've ever met one...”

“What’d he do?”

Hongbin cleared his throat. “Last time she was visiting, the idiot said he wouldn’t serve... a woman. Not the word he used but I won't repeat that. He’s dead now.”

Ah, of course. She would inherit Jaehwans title and property, not Sanghyuk. “Did your lord beat him to death or something?” Wonshik asked, the question offhand as he sipped a fresh cup of water. 

“No... Lord Jaehwan overheard it. He’d gutted the man from stomach to ribs before any of us realized he’d pulled his dagger.”

Wonshik arched a brow. The image of his sweet, softhearted Jaehwan killing someone was a startling mental picture. But he was a _ demon _ with a stiletto, and Wonshik had witnessed his wicked temper on several occasions. Slights on one's family's honor were never to be taken lightly. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine him lashing out like that if someone insulted his daughter to his face.

The happy group was gone when he turned back to the courtyard, so Wonshik tried to fix his focus on stretching. 

It was hard to take his mind off the fact that his lover had a child. And a spouse. It wasn’t _ that _ odd, Wonshik supposed, bending over to touch his toes. Jaehwan was twenty eight years old, plenty old enough to be married with a young child. And of course it would be the expected thing, furthering the family line was his duty as heir apparent. But it was still a bit incongruous. 

His lord hadn’t spoke of the girl at all before yesterday. Jaehwan said that not having his daughter with him was too painful to speak about most of the time. He missed her terribly and talking about it would just remind him that she wasn’t there. But if Wonshik had a child, he thought, straightening and folding an arm across his chest, he’d never shut up about it. He’d probably brag to anyone with two ears and a pulse. His lord was a sensitive creature though, Wonshik could see how constant reminders would be difficult for him to deal with. 

“Come, darling, I’m going to introduce you to my friend,” Jaehwan's voice said from the entrance to the dormitory. His words were met by giggling, and then the three of them appeared at the edge of the ring. 

Hongbin dropped into a bow and Wonshik was quick to follow. Sanghyuk was glaring at him like he thought Wonshik would disrespect the girl, and though he didn’t _ normally _ bow to anyone, how could he not do so when his Jaehwan’s little daughter was staring at him through wide mahogany eyes?

The girl had been walking at Jaehwan's side, but she was now tucked behind him, peering at the champion around Jaehwan's knee. Their resemblance was even more striking up close. 

“Are you frightened darling? Don’t be frightened! You remember Hongbin don’t you?” Jaehwan asked, bending down to scoop the girl into his arms, “The one you said looks like a prince from your storybooks?”

From the corner of his eye, Wonshik saw Hongbin blush the smallest bit. 

“Yes, but _ he _ looks like a prince too,” the girl replied, sounding very firm as she pointed a tiny finger at Wonshik. “Do all men look like princes to you, darling? What about your uncle Hyogi?” Jaehwan asked, beaming as he walked over to where the two fighters were standing. 

_ Uncle Hyogi. _ Ha. 

“Uncle Hyogi looks like a prince too, but Dada looks like a king!”

Jaehwan positively cooed, dropping a kiss on his daughter's cheek. Sanghyuk was hovering behind them like an overbearing shadow but Jaehwan didn’t seem to care a whit. 

“Darling, this is my friend Wonshik. He’s brought me great honor so we treat him with respect, just like we treat Hongbin, yes?” 

The little girl nodded solemnly. “Wonshik, this is my daughter, Lady Nari.” The pride in his lord's voice when he said _ daughter _ brought a grin to the champion's face. His love for the child was shining from him like rays of sunlight. Wonshik had never seen Jaehwan quite _ this _ happy before. 

“It’s an honor to meet you, my lady,” Wonshik replied, bowing again for good measure and delighting in the girl's shrill giggle.

“Wonshik is going to be accompanying us on our trip to the capital. He’s going to keep us safe, isn’t that exciting?” his lord added, smiling brilliantly as Wonshik straightened back up. 

“Only Dada can keep me safe,” Nari replied, crossing her arms and sticking out her bottom lip in what was a textbook Jaehwan-pout.

“Of course, darling, but sometimes Dada needs and extra pair of eyes. Like how you and mama always have guards around when I can’t be with you. Wonshik is going to be my extra pair of eyes.” Wonshik did his best not to melt into a puddle of goo. 

Neither Hongbin nor Sanghyuk had said anything yet. It was safe to mention their upcoming trip with the other fighter around. Hongbin had accidentally caught Wonshik, still in his borrowed clothing, sneaking back to his quarters after the secret trip to Crensell, and Sanghyuk had sworn his champion to secrecy. 

The little girl looked Wonshik over with a shrewd eye that reminded him strongly of his sister. “Who is your favorite princess?” 

Wonshik hesitated a moment, stretching his mind back to the fairy stories his mother had read to him and Jiwon as children. “The Little Mermaid, my lady,” he replied, aiming for a soft smile. 

“Why?”

“I like to swim and I love the ocean.”

Nari nodded again, turning her face up to Jaehwan and puffing up her cheeks. “He can come.”

☩☩☩☩☩

“Jaehwan?”

Jaehwan stopped walking. He had just put Nari to bed and he was so overwhelmed with joy at having her nearby that it felt like he could explode at any moment. Even after a week of being together, Jaehwan wasn’t used to it. 

“Yes, Sanghyuk?” he replied, grinning up at his brother like the smitten idiot he was. 

“I just wanted to ask, who are you corresponding with in Crensell? I tried to track down a messenger but he had just arrived back from Crensell and needed a moment to rest. This came for you, by the way,” his brother said, handing over a sealed square of parchment. 

Jaehwan tried to shake himself a bit, he’d prepared for this. “My spy,” he replied, slipping the parchment into his pocket to deliver to Wonshik later. 

“You’re spying on Lord Hakyeon? Since when?”

“Since a while. It’s good to know what our neighbors are up too. Do you disagree?”

Sanghyuk narrowed his eyes as they began walking together towards Jaehwan’s bedchamber. “No, it’s a sound idea. I just wish you would have told me.”

“Well, spies are _ supposed _ to be secret, dear brother,” Jaehwan replied with a wink. He couldn’t stop himself from skipping the last few steps to his door, too happy to contain himself for more than two minutes at a time.

“And what about the ridiculously large sum of money you paid to the university in Myndalia? _Surely_ you don’t know anyone going to school in the capital, do you?”

Jaehwan kept his expression as neutral as he could. “I’ve started a scholarship fund with the tournament winnings. I don’t need the money and education is important,” he replied airily. He’d started that fund for one girl in particular, actually. Wonshik had earned that money after all, and Jaehwan guessed his man wouldn’t protest at the way it was being spent. 

“First public policy, _ now _ philanthropy? Are you feeling alright?” Sanghyuk asked, a grin on his face as he pressed the back of his hand to Jaehwans forehead like he was taking the Marquess' temperature. Jaehwan smiled, jumping into his brothers arms and giving him an enormous hug. He and Sanghyuk may not get along all the time, but Jaehwan was so _ grateful _ to have his family nearby that he just couldn’t hold it in. 

☩☩☩☩☩

“My lord, are you _ sure _ this a good idea?” Wonshik asked, walking at his lord's side toward the king’s ballroom. 

His lord had been on edge the entirety of their two day journey, mostly due to the company of guards that traveled with them. A _ lot _ of them. It wasn’t just a two man trip like before, and the extra people definitely put a strain on Jaehwan. The nanny had come along as well but Jaehwan wouldn’t let his daughter out of his site the entire time. Wonshik had talked it over with Jaehwan the night before they left and his lord had explained that having Lady Nari with them would place a larger target on their heads, eliminate both heirs at the same time and clear a path for Sanghyuk. Easy. 

It had also been explained to Wonshik, who had never been to the capital before, that Myndalia and the Province of Kesea where it was located had _ no _ duke. It was ruled over solely by the king, and that’s who they were visiting. For his birthday party. Apparently. 

Duke and Duchess Lee were already in the capital, and as the heir apparent, Jaehwans presence was required as well. Sanghyuk was staying at the manor to hold down things while everyone was abroad. With all the basics squared away, the small party had gotten on the road accompanied by Sanghyuks hand-picked guards, and now they were at the palace. Going to a party. Full of aristocrats. _ Great. _

The reason why Wonshik, a gladiator and his lords champion, was masquerading as a closeguard for the second time, was trust. Jaehwan didn’t trust _anyone._ He trusted his brother, in a weird and twisted sort of way, but he didn’t trust his own friends, barely trusted his own servants, and was flat out suspicious of the guards who’s only job was to keep him safe. But for some unfathomable reason, he trusted Wonshik. His property, his fighter. It wasn’t because they were lovers, clearly, because he had bedded many of the guards that lived at the manor and he didn’t trust them at all. It was something else. Wonshik didn’t know what that something was, but Jaehwan trusted him enough to put his child’s life in Wonshik’s hands. That that was certainly something.

“Of course, it’s a good idea! The king loves children, lots of others are going to be there and it’s good for Nari to get to know her peers. She gets to come to court so rarely and these children will one day rule the country at her side. Forming bonds is important,” Jaehwan explained cheerfully, smiling at his daughter and giving her a little squeeze. 

“No, I understand that part, I meant leaving the guards behind and only having me accompany you,” Wonshik replied, adjusting the sleeve of his doublet. He still was not entirely used to wearing a nobleman's finery, it didn’t provide him with a great range of motion and everything felt just on the edge of too tight. The fancy clothes, on top of the yellow cyanide his lord had used to lighten his hair meant that he would be almost unrecognizable to the nobles. They were all used to seeing him in black and leather. But Jaehwan had told him he looked extraordinarily handsome so he would grin and bear the discomfort. 

Jaehwan gave him a _look,_ shifting Nari to his other hip and murmuring, “Remember what we discussed.”

“Dada no telling secrets!” the girl exclaimed, poking her father in the shoulder and instantly coaxing a smile back onto Jaehwans face. “I was just saying how _ beautiful _ you look in your new dress, darling” he replied, pinching his daughters cheek as she giggled. They were so smitten it was honestly adorable to watch. 

Wonshik remembered, it was a bit difficult for him to forget his lord telling him to trust no one other than himself and Nari’s nanny. Jaehwan telling him that every other person in the ballroom was a threat and to keep his eyes sharp, guards included. There had been war between the Duchy’s before and this tenuous peace likely wouldn’t last. So it was Wonshik’s job to hang back, keep his eyes open, make sure nothing happened to his lord and lady. Wonshik was taking it very seriously. 

“Shikkie, what’s your favorite color?” Nari asked, reaching over to tug Wonshik’s sleeve. The little girl had started calling him that yesterday and wouldn’t stop no matter how many times her nanny told her it wasn’t appropriate, but Wonshik didn’t mind. He was just as smitten with his lords daughter as everyone else at this point. 

“Black and white,” he replied, sparing the girl a smile as they paused outside the double doors to the ballroom. 

“The Marquess of Anathama and his daughter, Lady Nari!” the herald announced, bowing as Jaehwan walked passed. 

Wonshik let his hand brush his lords elbow before he slipped away, sticking by the wall as Jaehwan was mobbed with people. He easily picked out other men doing a similar thing. They must be closeguards as well. 

Most of the guests were dressed in dark, somber colors, but Jaehwan was easy to spot even in the middle of a crowd. His lord was all in white and gold, dark hair swept off his forehead and the smallest hint of rouge on his lips. He looked beautiful, in Wonshik’s opinion. It was very hard not to stare. 

Out of the corner of his eye, the champion saw the Duke and Duchess approaching. They both embraced their son and began cooing over Nari in her white and gold dress, but Jaehwan didn’t put her down. 

On the other side of the room, Wonshik could make out Lord Hakyeon, dressed in scarlet that highlighted his natural good looks, speaking to another tall blonde man. The man had a small boy at his side and both were in pale blue dublets. Matching with your children was a fashion at court, it seemed. 

There was a clinking of silver on crystal from the rise at the front of the ballroom, guests falling silent as their collective attention turned to the man holding a wine glass. It was the king, Wonshik realized, in formal uniform with a crown on his head. 

The king was younger than the champion had been expecting, and much more handsome. He knew the king was in his mid twenties, but somehow, the idea of _ a king _ always carried an older feeling. Wonshik didn’t exactly like the king, nobody did, but the job of a king wasn’t to be liked. It was to lead. Wonshik could respect that. 

“Welcome, dear friends. It brings me great joy to welcome each and every one of you to my palace on this happy day.”

He had a rich tenor voice and a brilliant smile, all the noble guests clinking their own glasses in response. 

“The real toast comes later, just a quick word. Please, go back to enjoying yourselves,” the king added, stepping down from the rise as the music began to play. 

All the guests went back to talking amongst themselves. Wonshik saw that the blonde man and his son had moved and were now speaking to Jaehwan. His lord was beaming, rocking slightly from side to side as Nari talked to the little boy from the safety of her father's arms. 

☩☩☩☩☩

And hour had come and gone.

From his spot by the wall, Wonshik watched as his lord took his turn and spoke to the king. They seemed to get along well, both laughing and smiling as the king bowed and kissed Nari’s hand. Even kings were not immune to her cuteness. 

The champion let his eyes flick around the room. Jaehwan’s blonde friend was speaking to a woman Wonshik didn’t know, the Duke and Duchess were in the opposite corner, and Lord Hakyeon was... where was he? Wonshik squinted, searching for a speck of scarlet in the crowd. Odd. 

Nari’s shrill giggle caught Wonshik’s attention, and he turned back, just in time to see an arrow pierce the king’s chest. 

Screaming.

There was _ so much screaming, _ building as the king fell and spreading across the room like a wildfire. 

Wonshik shook himself from his momentary shock, eyes finding Jaehwan. His lord was backing away, clutching his daughter to his chest and looking around in obvious panic. 

Arrows rained down out of nowhere and Wonshik inwardly cursed the balconies ringing the ballroom as he ran toward his lord. Getting to Jaehwan was his only objective in that moment. 

The room was in chaos, people everywhere, running in every direction. More of the nobles had been hit, but nobody seemed to know who was firing or why. Someone bumped into him, shoving past but Wonshik just shoved back, stepping over the body of a fallen woman and reaching out to snag his lords arm. 

“Wonshik!” Jaehwan exclaimed, allowing the champion to drag him back towards the entrance. “We have to leave, I need to get you to safety,” he replied, drawing his sword from the sheath at his hip. 

“No! I can't, I have to find my father, Wonshik take her!”

Wonshik was yanked to a halt. He whipped around, but before he knew what was happening, a crying Nari was being pushed into his arms. 

“Jaehwan this isn’t the time to be brave! I will pick you up and carry you out of here if I have to!”

The screaming made it hard for Wonshik to hear his lord’s words, but the fear in his eyes made the champion’s heart leap. 

“Don’t return to our chambers, there's an inn in the city called the Seven Sisters! Go there and wait for me, I’ll meet you!”

“Not a chance in _ hell _ am I leaving you here, come on,” Wonshik replied, clutching the girl tight and trying to pull his lord after him, but Jaehwan wouldn’t budge. 

He felt something being slipped into his pocket and then Jaehwan as kissing the top of his daughters head. And then he kissed Wonshik, quick but searing hot. “I have to find my father! Guard my daughter with your life! That’s an order!” Jaehwan shouted, trying to be heard over the chaos. He shoved Wonshik in a different direction, smacking a section of wall so the panel popped open. 

A secret passage. 

“Go! Now! I’ll meet you soon,” Jaehwan said, looking over his shoulder as he pushed the champion inside. 

Jaehwan wouldn’t come. Wonshik could see the determined light in his eyes. Behind the terror. To keep fighting would just waste time. He needed to get his lady to safety. It absolutely killed him to do it, killed him to walk away from this man he cared for so deeply, to turn and run like a coward when his Jaehwan was drawing his daggers to fight. 

But Jaehwan trusted him. He trusted Wonshik to take care of Nari, where he trusted no one else. So he would do it.

Wonshik caught his lords arm, pulling him back a second longer to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“I forbid you to die,” he whispered, stepping into the dark of the passage. 

Jaehwan released a shuddering breath, murmuring, “Your word, my law,” before he had turned away and shut the passage door.

They were plunged into darkness, Wonshik trying to calm Nari and keeping his sword out as he began to jog. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [MonsterBoyf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonsterBoyf/pseuds/MonsterBoyf) and [Jeodoboleo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeodoboleo/pseuds/jeodoboleo) for listening to my whine and rant about this story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter coming soon, sorry this one was a bit boring

Wonshik sat. He couldn’t sleep, the idea of doing such a thing was ludicrous. Unthinkable. So, he sat. The Raven of the Marquess de Anathama sat in a wooden chair he’d dragged up to the window, watching the darkened street from the third floor of the Seven Sisters. 

Their escape from the palace had been a blur. Jaehwan had left him in a tunnel that ended in the kitchens, so he had exited out one of the service entrances probably used to deliver food. They had run through the stables, out a small door in the rampart that was miraculously unguarded, and stolen out into the heart of the city. 

Wonshik had relieved a beggar of his roughspun cloak, trading for one of the gold loops his lord insisted he wear in his ears. It had been an attempt to disguise the money that dripped off him, make himself less of a sore thumb. And his lady, little Nari, being the clever girl she was, had stifled her tears, clinging to the champion and staying quiet until they were shown to their chamber in the inn. But she was only four years old, had just witnessed an ungodly amount of violence, and seen her father run headlong into danger. The tears had come thick and fast, then, in the relative safety of their room, and Wonshik had held her tight, drying the wetness on her cheeks and stroking her hair. Comforting the little girl as best he could. 

The thing Wonshik had felt his lord slip into his pocket had turned out to be a small purse. A purse filled with coin, more coins than Wonshik had even seen in his entire life. A living fortune to someone of lesser means. And he’d given Wonshik his- his ring. His ring of office, ring of power, silver band studded in sapphire, the signet ring of the Marquess de- 

Wonshik turned a little, checking on his lady. She was still sleeping, right in the center of the feather mattress surrounded by the nest of pillows Wonshik made to keep her snug. Her party dress was folded on the dresser, and he could just make out the cotton sleeve of his own undershirt curled around her chubby little fingers. He couldn’t make the child sleep in something as stiff and formal as that dress, she would never have relaxed. 

He shifted again; eyes trained on the street below. It had to be at least two in the morning now, but there was no sign of his lord yet. No Jaehwan bounding into the room, hair tousled and that lopsided smile on his face. No relief, no respite, no embrace. Just the ghost of his lords’ lips where they had seared his own. Just panic. 

As they had made their way across town, Wonshik had cobbled together a plan of sorts. Calling it _ a plan _was charitable, but it was the only thing the champion could think of doing. 

He had told the innkeeper that he was a merchant, traveling with his young daughter to the capital for business when their carriage had been robbed on the road. She was an older woman, kindhearted and sympathetic, and his inquiries about the best place to purchase children’s clothing had been met with a waving of hands. She had a granddaughter, one of an age with Jaehee (Wonshik didn’t take a chance on giving real names), and would _ ‘bring the poor thing a fresh dress in the morning’. _

That problem solved, Wonshik had set about the task of choosing their next move. The fact that Jaehwan hadn’t come yet was distressing, and Wonshik decided to wait until noon before getting on the road. Why not wait longer, one might ask? Because of the soldiers. 

The city was crawling with soldiers in red cloaks and helms, uniforms the color of gold and hearts blood. These were not the king’s men, Wonshik had gauged that easily enough, and they were clearly looking for something. Whether that something was, in all likelihood, the heir apparent to the throne of Bomora, Wonshik didn’t know. But he wasn’t going to take chances. The safest place for Lady Nari to be at this junction was at the manor with her uncle, so that’s where Wonshik was going to take her. 

He wasn’t an idiot though. If people were looking for Nari, they would be on the road to Anathama, probably trying to find people that looked shifty. Looked like they were on the run. So Wonshik wasn’t going to take her to Anathama, not directly. And he wasn’t going to travel in secret either.

With all the coin his lord had forced upon him, Wonshik was going to hire a carriage and head to Crensell first, to his family, and _then_ to Anathama. It was roundabout and would take a few days longer, but it was a much safer road to travel. He would leave a note for his lord with the nice innkeeper, sneakily telling Jaehwan where they had gone in the hopes he would follow, but at this point Wonshik was still praying to every god he knew that Jaehwan would meet them here. That Jaehwan was safe and alive and in one piece. 

As the hours crept on, however, his hopes were starting to dissipate. 

☩☩☩☩☩

“My lord,” a man called, coming into Sanghyuk’s office at a jog. The young lord took him in, the tousled hair and flushed face, ragged breath. A messenger. 

“What has happened?” Sanghyuk asked. He rose, fingertips brushing the cool wooden surface of his desktop. He could see it in the man’s eyes. _ Bad _news. 

“My lord, his grace the Marquess is missing. There was an attack on the palace, the king, the duke- they’re dead. Until your lord brother can be found, you are the- the heir to the throne.”

Sanghyuk… didn’t understand the words he just heard. They weren’t sticking in his head, he _ refused _them. It was some sort of horrible joke. 

“What are you saying, man? Talk sense,” Sanghyuk snapped, glaring for all he was worth. 

The messenger swallowed, looking anywhere but at Sanghyuk. “There was an ambush, my lord. At his highness’s birthday celebration. It appears to have been one of the nobles, the Marquess de Crensell. His own father is dead, as well as the king and our- our good duke and duchess, along with scores of other nobles. The Duke de Lylore temporarily took charge of the countries affairs until you get there, but his son is on the way here. His grace, Lord Taekwoon. Everyone with men to spare is searching for your lord brother as well as his grace Lord Hakyeon, but they seem to have vanished.”

Sanghyuk plummeted into realization, collapsing back into his chair. Stunned. His father and mother, _ gone. _Taken from his world in a single sentence. And Jaehwan- 

“What of my brother and niece?! You say they’re missing?!” he exclaimed, latching onto that, _ needing _something to keep him grounded in the sea of loss he had just fallen headlong into. Missing was better than dead. 

The messenger hesitated, shifting where he stood. “Out with it!”

“My lord, there were reports- reliable information is hard to find, the chaos- but there are reports that say your lord brother’s closeguard and Lady Nari were seen escaping through one of the servant’s corridors shortly after the king fell. Nobody has seen them since, the roads leading to and from Anathama are being patrolled, but there has been no sign of them. The Duke de Lylore is operating under the assumption that they never made it out of the palace.”

Not Nari too. Who the fuck had such a poisonous heart as to kill a four-year-old girl?! But she was with Wonshik, and Wonshik was a _ good _man. No matter how much Sanghyuk disapproved of his behavior toward Jaehwan, Wonshik had a sense of honor. And he could fight. Just because nobody had seen Nari and the champion, that didn’t mean they were dead. It was a crumb of hope in the desolation. 

“And Jaehwan?!”

“From our- the reports, it seems Lord Jaehwan tried to defend the duke and duchess, but he came too late to aid them. It sounds as though he flew into a rage and went after the Marquess de Crensell, dispatching a fair amount of the assassins as he did so, but-“

“But _ what?!” _

Sanghyuk was on his feet again with no memory of when he decided to stand. Jaehwan had stayed, tried to save their parents, but it didn’t matter how good he was with his daggers if he hadn’t gotten to them in time. For a savage, selfish instant, Sanghyuk wished Jaehwan had run away instead. That he had run with Nari and Wonshik so that Sanghyuk wouldn’t be alone with this loss now. He wanted his elder brother at his side. Needed him.

“But he was last seen chasing Lord Hakyeon up onto the balcony. It’s where the assassins were shooting from, you see, and he just vanished! Him and Lord Hakyeon both. It is presumed that your lord brother was either killed in the chase or he was captured and taken to Crensell.”

Sanghyuk sucked in a _sharp_ breath, staring at the papers on his desktop without really seeing them. Hakyeon was excellent with a sword, but Jaehwan and his daggers could beat a sword seven out of ten times. If they were both missing, that could mean _ anything. _Jaehwan could have killed Hakyeon and be on his way home. Sanghyuk wouldn’t contemplate the other option yet. He needed to move now. 

He snatched up a blank piece of parchment and, dipping his quill in ink, penned a hasty missive to his sister-in-law. He only wrote than Jaehwan and Nari were missing, not that they were presumed dead. There was no reason to alarm her so if they were in fact alive. 

“Bring this to my brothers’ estate and deliver it to the Marchioness directly. Not to a servant, I want you to give it to her with your own hand,” Sanghyuk said, dripping hot wax onto the parchment and pressing his signet ring into it. “Inform her that she needs to come here at once, now go! And send me my captain of guard on your way.”

If Jaehwans wife was the only remaining member of his family, Sanghyuk wanted to have her close by. He needed to organize their troops, send out patrols of his own and send someone to Crensell to find out what the fuck was going on. Sanghyuk wished he knew who his brothers spy there was. He needed- there were _ so many _ things to do and Sanghyuk wasn’t ready for any of them. If he was... alone, if he was the heir apparent to the throne of Bomora... Sanghyuk cut that line of thinking off in its tracks. He did not want to be king, never wanted to be king. He was _ not _supposed to be king! Jaehwan was! 

Jaehwan had _ promised _ him years ago, he had promised that he would take care of Sanghyuk and watch out for him, shoulder the burden of power so Sanghyuk wouldn’t have too. He'd been married for political alliance so Sanghyuk wouldn’t have too, even though it was traditionally the younger sibling that was sold off for the duchy’s benefit. Jaehwan had wanted Sanghyuk at his side, sacrificing his own hopes and dreams at every turn to keep Sanghyuk close. And now he could be _ dead. _

“You promised you wouldn’t leave me, Hwannie, you _ promised,” _Sanghyuk whispered once the messenger had departed, resting his head on his folded arms. He wouldn’t cry yet, cry for his parents, his family. That could wait until tonight. Now, he needed to act.

☩☩☩☩☩

Jaehwan never came. Wonshik had waited until noon like he planned, but with no sign of his lord anywhere, he had gathered Nari and they’re few possessions and hired a carriage. 

They had been stopped on the road only once, a routine check at the border of Kesea and Crensell. The soldiers clearly hadn’t known who they were, only sparing five minutes to inspect the champions carriage. From what he had gathered, they were searching for two men around his age, both slight and tall with dark hair. They had no use for a father and daughter traveling to visit relatives. 

Lady Nari was managing remarkably well, listening to Wonshik and not wandering off during the three nights they spent at various inns. She was of the steadfast belief that Jaehwan was coming to meet them and refused to hear otherwise, even insisting on writing her name and drawing a little picture on the note Wonshik left at the Seven Sisters. He told Jaehwan to meet them within the week at _ ‘the home where he was put in his place by a very smart girl’, _assuming that kind of thing didn’t happen to a Marquess very often and would have stuck in his memory. 

Wonshik looked down at the little girl seated in front of him on the saddle. She was tucked snuggly between his arms, thick wool cloak and dress of light blue cotton keeping her warm, hair plaited rather messily. Wonshik had decided to leave the carriage in town and purchase a horse to take them the rest of the way. An extra safety precaution. And his family’s farm had just come into view. 

“Lady Nari, it’s time to wake up. We’re here,” Wonshik said, shifting the reins to one hand and taping the little girl’s nose. Nari snuffled and stretching her arms over her head. 

“I’m hungry Shikkie, are we having breffest soon?” she asked, nuzzling into the champion’s chest and trying to sneakily go back to sleep. Her mispronunciation of the word _ breakfast _never failed to make Wonshik laugh. 

“Yes, my lady, I’m sure my family will have lots of tasty things for us,” he replied, shifting the reins to the other hand and scooping the girl up with his free arm. 

She let out a shriek of a giggle so similar to Jaehwan’s that it sent a fresh pang of sadness through the champion's heart, but he smiled anyway. The chestnut mare trotted into the small courtyard before his family’s home and Wonshik pulled her to a stop. He tucked Nari against his hip and swung down to the ground, leading the mare to a post and securing her to it. 

“Ma! I’m home!” he called, knocking on the cottages front door when he found it locked. It took a few moments, Nari starting to doze off with her head on his shoulder, but then he heard the sound of hasty footsteps. It was barely sunrise; he should have guessed he had woken them. 

“Wonshik?!” his mother exclaimed, flinging the door open and looking up at him with a mixture of shock and delight. 

“Hi,” he replied, wrapping his Nari-free arm around her shoulders and hugging her tight. After the chaos and fear of the past four days, being able to talk to his mother was an immeasurable comfort.

“What are you doing here, and who’s this?! And _ what _have you done to your hair?!” she asked, pulling him inside and shutting the door. His home was toasty warm, embers crackling in the hearth, and Wonshik collapsed on their overstuffed sofa with a sigh of relief. 

“The hair is a disguise, Ma, I was working, but everything went so god damn wrong,” he murmured, shutting his eyes and stroking the back of Nari’s head. He felt his mother sit down beside him, clearly waiting for more of an explanation than that, but the champion thought he only had the strength to tell the story once. “Where’s dad?”

“I’m here,” his father replied, shuffling sleepily into the room. Wonshik opened his eyes and smiled, if only Jiwon was here. But no, she was away at university, safe, thanks to Jaehwan. That was the best place for her. 

“Are you going to tell us who your companion is? And why you showed up on our doorstep at the crack of dawn? Not to say that we aren’t happy to see you,” his mother prompted, Wonshik nodding before she could finish. He felt like he could breathe, _ really _breathe for the first time since his Jaehwan pushed him into that passageway.

“This is my lord’s daughter, Lady Nari,” he replied, glancing down and seeing that the girl had fallen back asleep with her thumb in her mouth. “Oh, thank the gods, I thought you were about to introduce me to my grandchild!”

“And where is your lord?”

Wonshik looked back at his father, swallowing hard. The news of the catastrophe wouldn’t have reached them yet.

“The king is dead.”

His pronouncement was met with stunned silence.

“I was in the capital with Jaehwan, he was attending the king’s birthday celebration with Nari and his parents. I was guarding him, you know, doing my job, but- there was an ambush. I don’t know who’s responsible but there were enemies everywhere, it was like shooting fish in a barrel. My lord- Jaehwan ordered me to take his daughter to safety and then ran to fight. I don’t know what happened to him. He could be dead as well.” 

More silence. Wonshik closed his eyes again, resting his cheek atop Nari’s head and taking a few deep breaths before continuing. 

“There were soldiers everywhere, we needed to get out of the capital. And I need to get Nari to her uncle, but I thought detouring here would safer than going straight into Anathama. The roads are being patrolled.”

☩☩☩☩☩

Day two of Wonshik and Nari’s stay at the Kim family farm had just begun. The little lady had gone out back into the fields to explore with his father, and Wonshik was sitting on the porch with his mother, sipping mugs of tea and talking. 

“I hope you and Nari can stay longer, she’s a breath of fresh air to us old folks,” his mother said, affectionately patting Wonshik’s knee. 

Nari had been getting on remarkably well at the farm, helping his mother with the herb garden and accompanying his father when he tended the animals. She seemed to be doing great in the fresh country air, sleeping better and eating healthy. Wonshik’s family was about ready to adopt her if Jaehwan didn’t turn up soon. 

“Only two more days. I told Jaehwan to meet us within the week, so if he doesn’t show up, I’m going to head on to the manor,” Wonshik replied, looking out at the pasture across the road. The cows had come out to graze, Nari would probably like to see them. 

His mother nudged his arm, gently getting his attention. “You care for your lord, don’t you?”

Wonshik couldn’t stop a small smile crossing his face. “Yeah, I do. He’s a good person. Honest and kind.”

“I could tell, your eyes light up whenever you speak about him.” His mother grinned and patted his cheek. Gods, Wonshik had missed this.

The sound of hooves pounding the ground in the distance caught Wonshik’s attention, and for a panicked second he thought it was soldiers. Thought that people were coming for his lady. 

He shot to his feet, preparing to take off into the fields to find her, but when he looked over the porch railing, he saw it was only one rider. One person, riding _ extraordinarily _quickly down the road, right toward the farm. 

A person with dark wavy hair, a hunter green cloak billowing out behind him, crouched low on the back of a coal black stallion and riding without a saddle. Wonshik’s heart nearly stopped beating right then and there. It was Jaehwan. 

Wonshik darted off the porch, his lord riding toward him at a flat-out gallop. Jaehwan yanked on his reins, dragging the horse to an abrupt halt and leaping off the stallions back before it had come to a full stop. He stumbled a little but didn’t bother to try and compose himself, careening straight into the champions waiting arms.

Wonshik kissed his lord hard, a hand on the nape of his neck and the other on his back. Steadying him, holding him up. The force of his relief left Wonshik breathless. Jaehwan clung to him, kissing him back, shaking. 

The horse was trotting around in circles, whinnying nervously at his rider’s sudden dismount, but Wonshik couldn’t hear it. Jaehwan was here, he was alive and breathing and the champion could feel the warmth of his lords’ slender body against his own. 

“Jaehwan, Jaehwan my sweetheart you’re alive,” he murmured, petting his lords cheek, smoothing his hair. Jaehwan’s arms were around his neck, his big brown eyes panic-stricken. “You’re safe? Nari is safe? Where is she I need to see her I-“

Jaehwan wobbled, only kept on his feet by Wonshik’s quick reflexes. “Nari is fine, she’s out exploring the field with my father but Jaehwan- Jaehwan are you alright?! Where have you been?!”

“Long story, Love, I’ll explain later but Nari...”

His lord tried to pull away, and it was only then that Wonshik took in how salow he was, his pallid complexion. Apparently, his mother noticed too. She appeared at their side, healers’ hands searching the Marquess for injuries. 

“Wonshik take him inside to the spare room and then go fetch Nari. I need to tend to him,” she snapped, tone all business. The champion did as instructed and swept Jaehwan off his feet, carrying him up the porch steps and over the threshold. “What did you do to yourself, my lord? You’re trembling!”

“I think I have a broken rib, and maybe an ankle as well, but that’s not important, I want to see my daughter,” Jaehwan groaned, breath leaving him in little puffs as Wonshik lay him on the bed. 

“You- you rode like _ that, _bareback, with a broken rib?!” Wonshik blanched, not understanding the humor that flashed in his lords’ eyes. “Nothing wrong with a little rough riding, love.”

“Oh, shut up and drop the act! You’re injured and you scared me senseless! I thought you were dead!” the champion snapped, forcing himself not to blush. Jaehwan huffed out a laugh, palming his cheek and pulling him down into another kiss.

It was sweet and soft, his lords’ lips moving against his, slow and gentle. But Wonshik pulled away. This wasn’t the time for him to melt. “Please, Love, will you get Nari?” Jaehwan asked, petting the champions flushed cheek. 

“Of course,” Wonshik replied, forcing himself to back away from the bed. Jaehwan closed his eyes, breathing shallow and hands clasped on his stomach. He looked so tired... 

The champion stepped out of the room, but he only made it to the front door when his lady ran smack into his leg. “We saw a rider approaching, is it-“ his father asked, Wonshik trying to catch Nari but she had already scampered around him. 

“Dada!” she shrieked, Wonshik reentering the guest room just in time to see Nari throw herself on Jaehwan. “My darling, I’ve missed you,” his lord replied, groaning a little as she jumped up and down on his stomach. He caught her in a hug, dotting kisses all over her face and grinning.

“Come, little lady. Ma has to look your lord father over before you squish him,” Wonshik said, unable to stop his smile as he gently extricated Nari from Jaehwan’s octopus’ arms and balanced her on his hip. Jaehwan grinned up at them as his daughter started babbling about the sheep and the pigs and one of the barn cats she had befriended. He answered everything, asking questions and letting Nari talk as Wonshik’s mother poked and prodded him. 

“Your ribs aren’t broken, Marquess, but they are very badly bruised. And these cuts on your stomach need treating. _ And _you have a fever,” his mother said, interrupting Nari’s story about chasing a kitten around the sheep pen. “Wonshik, I need echinacea and witch-hazel, aconite, Rosemary for the pain.”

☩☩☩☩☩

Jaehwan was exhausted. He was sitting on the bed in Wonshik’s sisters’ room where Nari had been staying, head lolling a bit to the side and eyes drooping shut. The storybook kept slipping from his hand, but it probably didn’t matter. His daughter had already fallen asleep. 

“Jaehwan?”

Wonshik’s deep voice roused the Marquess from his doze. His man was standing in the doorway, hands in pockets, a soft smile playing on his lips. 

“You need rest and we need to talk.”

Jaehwan shut the book and set it on the nightstand, making sure his daughter was snug before sliding rather clumsily off the bed. His side ached and he still felt clammy, but the lady of the house could work wonders with her herbs. 

“You look well, love,” he murmured, allowing his man to sweep him up into a hug. Wonshik hid his face against Jaehwan’s neck. “Don’t misunderstand, I’m still absolutely furious with you.”

“Why? I met you like I said I would, didn’t I?” Jaehwan asked as he was led back to the guestroom. Wonshik’s hand on his waist, comforting and strong. His man shut the door and turned to look down at him with an expression of genuine upset. 

“You ran headlong into danger, Jaehwan, without _ any _regard for your own life. You could have died. Probably should have died, and you sent me away instead of letting me protect you.”

“You protected my daughter, that was the most important thing,” Jaehwan replied, sitting down on the mattress and taking his man’s hands in his own. 

“You still haven’t told me where the hell you’ve been and how you ended up in this state.”

Jaehwan took a deep breath, tugging his man down to sit beside him. “Tomorrow, I’ll explain tomorrow,” he murmured, leaning in to press his mouth to Wonshiks. He was denied. 

“Now. You tell me now.”

“Love, I’m tired-“

“Now, Jaehwan.”

“It was Hakyeon, the Marquess de Crensell, remember him? Of course, you would. He- he killed my parents, killed the king, killed his own father.”

Wonshik visibly paled, squeezing Jaehwan’s hand. 

“I knew he wanted power; he’s always been too ambitious for his own good, but I never expected him to go that far. To actually attempt to take it by force. I tried to help them, save them but... I was too late.”

“He killed your-“

Jaehwan held up a hand. This was going to be hard enough to talk about without interruptions. Wonshik seemed to understand, immediately falling silent. “I saw him, him- I saw my mother fall under his sword and I lost it. Nothing in my mind other than the need to cut him down myself. For my mother. But the bastard ran.”

“I chased after him, nearly getting myself shot by his archers in the process but we were in the main palace before I reached him. He’s stronger than me, you see, and -and he got one of my knives. Beat me soundly if I’m honest, cut me up a bit and then stomped on my ankle when I tried to follow after him.”

Wonshik’s eyes had narrowed, that handsome jaw clenched tight. Jaehwan took another breath. 

“I don’t know why he didn’t just kill me... maybe he thought I’d bleed out or that one of his men would dispatch me after he made his escape, but whatever the case I managed to hide out in the servants quarters until most of the fighting blew over. One of the maids, our chambermaid actually, you know, the one who was so taken with Nari?”

His man nodded.

“Well, she happened upon me the next morning and _ borrowed _ some clothes for me from a stableboy.”

“We waited for you until noon,” Wonshik said quietly, not protesting when the Marquess snuggled up to his side. “But I saw all the patrols in the streets and I thought it would be best for us to leave the capital.”

“It was good that you did, love,” Jaehwan replied, resting his head on his man's broad shoulder. “They were Hakyeon's men, not the kings, may he rest peacefully in the light of the gods. They were in large part what prevented me from coming to you sooner.”

“The other part being?”

“I was hurt. The maid, Seoyoon, sweet girl, she wouldn’t let me leave until I had rested and she had tended my injuries a bit. So I stayed hidden in the palace until nightfall, stole one of Hakyeon's horses because I knew it was his favorite, and went to the Seven Sisters. And I got your note so I knew where to find you.”

Jaehwan pulled the square of parchment from his pocket and looked it over fondly. His daughters little picture of a dog in the bottom corner brought a smile to his face. “Genuinely, I thank you for taking such good care of Nari. And I must thank your parents properly tomorrow. Having two noble houseguests show up uninvited can really only be viewed as an inconvenience. They are such generous people, letting us stay.”

“An inconvenience?” Wonshik asked, a startled laugh escaping from behind his growing smile. “My lord, they were ready to raise her as their own child if you hadn’t arrived soon. We all adore Nari.”

“And I adore _ you, _but please, love, drop the title.”

His man leaned down and pressed his lips to the Marquess temple. “Jaehwan, my sweetheart, is that better?”

“Yes, nobody calls me that but you.” 

Jaehwan tilted his face up, wrapping a hand around his man’s neck and stealing a proper kiss before Wonshik could object. Wonshiks lips were as soft and inviting as the Marquess remembered. They hadn’t even been apart a full week and yet it felt like an eternity. 

“Now that you’ve told me at least the basics, Jaehwanie, you _ need _ to rest.”

The Marquess knew his man was talking sense, he had been riding that damnable stallion for the better part of three days with 5 hours of total sleep. Five hours being a generous estimate. And yet-

“But this is an opportunity we _ mustn't _ waste, love,” he hummed, shifting up and straddling Wonshik, settling comfortably atop his strong thighs. Wonshik looked at him quizzically, the two at eye level now, his hands on Jaehwan’s hips. 

“We are alone. No guards, no titles, not in your dormitory but in a real bedroom. With no servants or brothers to happen upon us,” Jaehwan murmured, looping his arms around his man’s neck. “When will be ever have a chance to be together like this again?”

Understanding bloomed in the widening of his man's eyes, an almost comical sight. “You’re forgetting about my parents. The walls here are thin and my mother will be sure to catch us. Plus, being quiet is never your strong suit.”

“Come now,” the Marquess replied, smiling a bit as he ground down against his mans crotch. Wonshik’s breath stuttered, Jaehwan smiling wider. “Don’t you want me on my hands and knees? I know that’s your favorite.”

Wonshik shook his head, lightened hair falling across his beautiful dark eyes. “You’re still unwell, sweetheart. You’re in no condition to be on your hands and knees for _ any _ reason.”

Jaehwan pouted, leaning in and pressing himself against his man, drinking in his clean cotton smell. “Please?”

“No,” Wonshik murmured. The Marquess’ lashes fluttered, his man gently nudging their noses together. “Let me take care of you.”

A muscle jumped in Jaehwan’s jaw as Wonshik lifted him up and scooted backwards to the center of the bed. He beckoned Jaehwan over and the Marquess settled between his legs, his back against Wonshik’s chest. “No, but-_ I _ take care of _ you. _That’s the deal,” he said, shuddering as the button on his trousers was flicked open. “With all due respect, my lord, please quiet.”

Wonshik smiled, Jaehwan could feel the eyes on his face as the Marquess went pliant for his man. Submitted to the large hands running down his body. Hissing as the chill night air hit his exposed skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his man’s fingers wrapped around his cock. 

“Love,” Jaehwan hissed, sucking in a breath as though he’d been punched. Arousal burned through him, too hot. Head falling back on Wonshik’s shoulder and lips parting around a whine. 

His man stroked him, sweet and soft and slow, and it was torture. Exquisite agony. An arm wrapped around his middle to stop him writhing. “Now you have to fuck me, you _ have _ to, please…”

“No,” Wonshik purred, lips brushing the shell of Jaehwan’s ear as he spoke. “You can come like this or not at all.”

The Marquess growled. He squeezed his eyes shut and reached back, fingers curling through the hair at the nape of his mans neck. Rasping breaths clawed their way out of him at every flick of Wonshik’s wrist. 

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?

“Why must you- why must you torture me so? Do you love me so little?” the Marquess gasped, hips stuttering in aborted little motions. His whole body went tense as his mind played the words back. Because _ of course _ his man did not love him. How could Wonshik love him when Jaehwan held the literal deed to his life? 

His question was met with silence and Jaehwans fear was confirmed. Only bedmates. Only doing his job. How could anyone love their _ owner? _

The world around him had taken on a surreal quality, enveloped by Wonshiks warmth and the soft coverlet beneath them. Is this what it would be like to be a normal person? Live in a modest home, seek out a life of comfort with a man he loved? Free from the gilded cage that was being noble born? 

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

Jaehwan whimpered, stomach muscles clenching, bottom lip trembling as he came apart under Wonshik’s tender ministrations. His chest heaved, both hands pressed over his own mouth to try and stifle his voice, slowly coming down from the heady rush of fragile pleasure. He could feel the length of his man’s hardness against the base of his spine. 

“Your turn now,” Jaehwan murmured, sitting up on his knees and turning around. He ignored the come splattered on his stomach, ignored that his tunic was still hiked up under his arms, and pushed his man roughly back onto the mattress. 

“Sweetheart...” 

The Marquess ignored the pet name as well, settling between Wonshik’s legs and palming his crotch through his trousers. Just bedmates. That was fine, Jaehwan could do bedmates, he knew this territory all too well. 

“How does it feel to have your lord on his knees before you?” he asked, voice dropping into a lower, more sultry tone. He pawed at his man’s thighs, tugging urgently on the fabric. 

“To have me begging for your cock like a filthy slut?” His bedmates always liked that, the reversal of power dynamic. 

“Sweetheart.”

Jaehwan crawled up his man’s body, pushing his shirt away and licking kittenishly at his man’s abdomen. He could taste the barest hint of sweat, salty and warm and he never broke eye contact as he slid slowly back down. 

“I want you, love, I need you. Please fuck me love, I want to make you feel good.”

“Jaehwan.”

The Marquess dragged his teeth along his man’s navel, yanking teasingly on the waistband of his grey wool trousers. He was feeling hot again, needy. He wanted his man to want him just as badly. “Use me, love.”

He mouthed at his champions length over the fabric, blinking slowly as he felt Wonshiks cock twitch. 

“Please love, I am at your mercy” he murmured, fingers tripping across his man’s hard, bare stomach. “Please, I need your-“

“Jaehwan!” Wonshik snapped, sitting abruptly and pushing the Marquess away. “What in the name of the gods are you doing?”

Jaehwan skittered backwards to the foot of the mattress, eyes wide, wounded. His lip was trembling again. “What- what did I do wrong?” he asked, voice shaking as he spoke. Wonshik was giving him a look that was a mix of exasperation and pity, and it made the Marquess’ skin crawl. “I thought- that’s what you wanted? I thought I was being good?”

“Gods,” his man breathed, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “What have your lovers done to you?”

Jaehwan shrank away, ducking his head and fighting back tears as he slid off the bed. A lump rose in his throat. Wonshik did not want him. Maybe returning home had reminded the champion of their first journey together. Of the broken little thing Jaehwan had been after Hakyeon, how Wonshik felt such pity that he had washed Jaehwans hair in the bath like the Marquess was a child. 

_ Who would want a man like me, _ Jaehwan thought miserably, snagging his roughspun cloak from the chair in the corner of the room. He thought he and Wonshik had gotten past such aggression, a sort of friendship blooming between them when the Marquess first fell into his champions bed. If not _ friendship, _ then at least understanding, a simple exchange of loyalty for pleasure. But a lot could change in a handful of days, much could-

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Wonshik asked, getting to his feet and stopping Jaehwan before the Marquess reached the chamber door. 

“Home. To the manor. I need to speak to my brother and make a plan, I’ve rested enough. Set out tomorrow with Nari,” Jaehwan replied, keeping his tone even as possible and gaze fixed on the ink crossing his man’s forearm. 

“No, you are not. What’s gotten into you?” Wonshik snapped, pulling the cloak from Jaehwans shoulders and dropping it on the floor. 

The Marquess raised his eyes, affronted, letting a drop of hurt sparkle in his iris in imitation of anger. “Do not presume you have the right to give me orders, champion. Get out of my way.”

“No,” his man repeated, taking Jaehwans upper arm and dragging him back to the bed. “What just happened?”

“Nothing of import. I made an offer, you rejected me, and now I am going to handle the business of my duchy.”

“I thought I told you to drop the act! Since when do you feel the need to belittle yourself to try and gain my affection?” Wonshik pulled the Marquess smartly down so he sat on the edge of the mattress. Jaehwan swallowed hard, failing to dislodge the lump that had taken up residence in his windpipe. 

“I don’t like hearing you speak that way, how could you think I’d want that from you? You’ve never behaved like that before!” His man looked down at him with steel in his gaze, standing before the Marquess like a glacier. To Jaehwans horror, he felt wetness pooling in his eyes, shame burning hot on his cheeks. 

“You don’t want me at all, why does it matter?”

“Oh, Jaehwan sweetheart,” Wonshik murmured, sitting beside the Marquess and sliding an arm around his waist. Dragging dark hair from his damp lashes, Jaehwan dared to look up. Worry was written in the set of his man’s shoulders, a soft expression on his handsome face. “Sweetheart, you’re a sensitive creature even on the best of days, but you’re overtired, overwhelmed, and you _ need _ to sleep now. And you know you’re dear to me, I’ve told you so on numerous occasions. I just wanted you to relax, not to rile you up.”

Jaehwan hiccuped. 

“Come, let's go to bed, hm?” Wonshik asked, getting up and helping Jaehwan remove his shoes. The Marquess stared down at his man, blinking back tears. 

They could go to bed. Together. There was no threat of being discovered, no needing to look over their shoulders every moment. “We- we can cuddle?”

Wonshik laughed, that bass chuckle that instantly warmed the Marquess’ insides. “Of course, cuddle and snuggle and probably sleep in if Nari allows it. She has a penchant for jumping on me around six in the morning.”

“Hold me,” Jaehwan said, a whiny note of command in his voice. His man grinned. “Your word, my law.”

☩☩☩☩☩

Wonshik woke to sunlight spilling through the curtains and giggling from somewhere nearby. 

His lord was tucked against his chest, covers tugged up over their shoulders, and... the little lady sitting at the foot of the bed. Hence the giggling. _ Oh no. _

“Dada!” the girl shrieked, pouncing on Jaehwan with the ferocity of a tiger. 

The Marquess groaned, catching his daughter and dragging her under the blanket. He paid no attention to her shrill screeching or wiggling, he hadn’t even opened his eyes. “Darling, what time is it?”

“Breffest time!” Nari exclaimed, wedged between the champion and the Marquess with her cheeks puffed out. Wonshiks heart nearly stopped beating. It was such a picture perfect moment, waking up to a cozy bed and the man most dear to him, _ and _ his man’s adorable daughter laughing between them. How could this not be his reality?

“Were you and Shikkie having a sleepover?” Nari asked, all the blood draining from Wonshiks face in a heartbeat. Jaehwan was married! To a woman! Who he probably did all this cute stuff with regularly! Fuck!

“Yes, darling, we had a sleepover and told lots of secrets and stayed up very late,” his lord replied, not missing a beat and laying a series of kisses on his daughter's forehead. Wonshik couldn’t- couldn’t speak. Everything wrong with the situation had hit him all at once. This wasn’t his child and Jaehwan wasn’t his husband. It felt like being shaken awake from a blissful dream. 

Jaehwan rolled onto his back, lifting Nari out of bed after a final, very exaggerated kiss on the cheek. “Go on outside so Shikkie and I can get ready darling, then I’ll braid your hair for you,” he mumbled, grinning that lopsided grin as his daughter scampered out of the room. 

“Good morning, love,” his lord said, turning back around and squinting up at the champion. “Hi,” Wonshik breathed, unsure of what he should do or say. Jaehwan dropped a kiss on the tip of his nose. Oh, he was so beautiful in the diffused light of the morning. 

“Hi,” Wonshik managed again, repeating himself for no reason whatsoever and just barely concealing the fact that he’d choked up. Jaehwans brow furrowed, the sleep falling from his pretty brown eyes. Alert. “What is wrong, love?”

“Nothing, just a stressful past few days.”

Jaehwan hummed in agreement, tracing one of the champions eyebrows with the pad of his finger. “And it will only get worse, I’m afraid. Sanghyuk is going to be apoplectic, he’s never wanted power and the thought of all our family being gone will have only put him more on edge.”

“Apoplectic? Why would he be angry? Shouldn’t he be sad?”

“Oh, he will be sad, but dealing with matters of the heart was never my brothers strong suit. His pain has a way of manifesting into rage.”

The Marquess groaned softly, one hand on his bruised ribs as he slid out of bed. Wonshik watched his lover walk away towards the small dresser where clean clothes were folded. Watched as Jaehwan stripped off the garments he’d slept in, the dark green roughspun that made his inky hair glow. 

“You’re beautiful,” the champion murmured, folding an arm behind his head and drinking in the sight of the dimples on his lord’s bare back. Jaehwan looked over his shoulder and smiled, a smile that was all sharp edges and mischief. “You say that every time I’m getting dressed.”

“And when you’re getting undressed.”

Jaehwan laughed, soft and low, stepping into a fresh pair of black trousers and slowly approaching the bed. “Yes, I do believe you say it more frequently on those occasions.”

The champion trailed a finger down his lord’s stomach. The scratches and bruises that were still visible despite his mother’s ministrations. “Battle wounds, love, nothing more.”

“You shouldn’t have had to be in any battle-“

“Shh, enough of that,” his lord said, a glint in his eye that was the dark sweetness of Wonshiks decay.

☩☩☩☩☩

“This shit show is worse than the normal fare your brother gets himself caught up in.”

Sanghyuk raised his glass of whisky in Taekwoons direction. “You can say that again, my lord.”

The Marquess de Lylore and his young son had arrived at the manor two days previous, his sister in law the day before that, and playing the gracious host was starting to drive the young lord mad. He didn’t enjoy the task, it was more his brother’s area, and doing so _ now, _with all the turmoil inside his head and inside his heart, it was torturous. 

“Lord uncle, I’ve finished,” the small blonde boy said, popping up from behind Sanghyuks desk where he had built a fort of sorts and filled it with books. Daehyun was a lot like Taekwoon himself, lanky and blonde with sharp eyes reminiscent of a cat. But he smiled more easily. Children were like that, Sanghyuk guessed. 

“Gods, Daehyun! You read fast,” Sanghyuk replied, standing. He took the book from his (very distant) nephew’s hand and set it back on the shelf. The boy grinned. “What are you in the mood for now?”

“Something with knights!”

Sanghyuk smiled and pulled out a book bound in oxblood leather. “This is my elder brother’s favorite, the legends of king-”

“Sanghyuk!”

The young lord looked around, finding his guest at the window. “What?”

“It’s Jaehwan, he’s here.”

The relief that washed over Sanghyuk was almost a tangible thing. He _ knew _ Jaehwan was alive, he just _ knew _it. The young lord took off at the most dignified run he could manage, Taekwoon on his heels, hurrying through the hall and out into the foyer. Jaehwan was here, Jaehwan was here, Jaehwan was here! That was the only thought going through the young lords mind. His brother was alive. He wasn’t alone. 

They jogged out the front door and down the steps, just in time to see Jaehwan and his champion ride into the courtyard, his niece sitting in front of his brother. 

Perfect stillness, absolute silence. Sanghyuk couldn’t hold it in any longer. “You _ colossal _ imbecile!” he shouted, pulling Nari off the horse and setting her on her feet. “It's good to see you too, brother dear,” Jaehwan replied, swinging himself off the saddle and wincing. 

“You genuinely stayed and fought?! What in the name of the gods is wrong with you?! You should have run! That was the whole point of me allowing him to accompany you! So you wouldn’t have to do any fighting!”

“Your generosity is _ boundless,” _ his brother snapped, brushing wrinkles out of his peasant clothing and resting a hand on Wonshik’s arm. The man had appeared at his brothers side without a whisper of sound, but Sanghyuk paid him no attention. “Allowing _ my own man _to accompany me on my travels.”

Sanghyuk huffed and pulled his elder brother into a tight hug. 

“You promised.”

“I kept my promise, did I not?”

The young lord nodded, feeling Jaehwan wince again. “Are you injured? Gods, you’ll need a medic, come!”

He turned to lead his brother toward the steps but was stopped by Taekwoon’s hand on his shoulder. “That is, unless I’m very much mistaken, Hakyeon’s stallion.”

“It is, he owes me much more than a horse, but I’ll take it as a downpayment,” Jaehwan hissed, patting the horses nose with real affection. 

“You recognize Hakyeon's horses?”

Taekwoon looked at him. “I like horses.”

“Fair enough,” the young lord breathed, not in the mood to draw out that line of conversation. He turned back to the manor but stopped dead in his tracks for the second time. 

“Unhand my niece,” he snapped, glaring daggers at his brothers champion. Wonshik had picked the Nari up, listening attentively as she whispered in his ear. Sanghyuks temper, which had been teetering dangerously on the edge exploding for the past week, abruptly flared. He _ stomped _ to the champion and squared up, managing to look down on Wonshik. He was still taller. That made the young lord a little happier. 

“You seem a bit high strung, my lord.”

Sanghyuk snarled, cracking his knuckles. “Unhand the Lady Nari this instant, _ slave.” _

The young lord was rewarded with a spark igniting in Wonshiks normally slightly tired eyes. But that was where his happiness ended. 

“Put your cocks back in your trousers, both of you!” Jaehwan snapped, pulling his daughter from his champions arms and glaring at them all. “Leave off him, Sanghyuk, he saved Nari’s life and he saved mine as well! And he will be accompanying me as my closeguard from now on, not up for negotiation.”

“You may want to rethink that decision, lord brother,” Sanghyuk replied, shaking his hair out of his eyes and shuffling his trump card to the top of the deck. “Your wife is here.”

☩☩☩☩☩

Wonshik stood in the corner of his lords office, hands folded in front of him and a sword strapped at his hip, keeping his eyes fixed _ directly _ at the wall opposite.

“He is holding my crown hostage! Not that I ever truly wanted the damn thing in the first place, but just the thought of his treasonous ass on my throne is driving me to distraction!”

“Watch your language around our _ four-year-old _ daughter, darling. It’s unbecoming,” his lord's _ wife _ said, lightly slapping the back of Jaehwans head as she walked past. His _ wife. _

The messenger from Kresea had arrived only a few hours after they had. Lord Hakyeon was back in the capital with a cadre of soldiers and was occupying the palace. In the week that had passed since then, his lord’s spies had reported that the country was divided. Split in Jaehwan’s favor, if barely, Crensell and half of Kesea on Hakyeon's side, while the other half, Anathama, and Lylore on Jaehwan’s. If all that wasn’t enough, the Marquess of Wonshiks homeland was holding Lord Taekwoon’s father hostage. And despite _ all of that insanity, _the Raven of Anathama could feel nothing but jealousy. Intense and monstrous jealousy that sent his blood singing every moment he was in this woman’s presence. 

“Apologies, dove. I’m a bit overwhelmed by all this.” Jaehwan bounced Nari on his knee and kissed her forehead before setting her on the floor. 

The woman wasn’t rude to Wonshik, wasn’t haughty or imperious. That would have made it so much easier. She was nice. Sweet, even. No, it was how she acted with Jaehwan. Calling him darling, touching him that casual way that Wonshik could not. They may be nothing more than platonic _ now _but the past was there. Little Nari was proof enough of that. She had the woman’s nose. 

“Would you mind taking our lovely four-year-old out for a turn in the garden so I can swear?”

The woman smiled fondly, pinching the shell of Jaehwans ear. Wonshik caught himself glaring and returned his gaze to the wall. “Cursing the Gods always does help your constitution, come, Nari.”

She scooped the girl up and quit the room with relatively little fanfare. 

“That murderous cocksucking bastard is giving me a fucking headache!” Jaehwan exclaimed, slumping back in his chair as soon as the office door was shut. Wonshik didn’t say anything. He was a piece of furniture, and furniture didn’t talk. 

His lord didn’t seem to notice the champions silence, letting out a string of some of the most colorful profanity Wonshik had ever heard in his entire life. But he still didn’t say anything. Eyes fixed on the wall. 

“Love?”

Wonshik blinked. “Love please talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything! You've been so quiet, it’s starting to worry me.” Jaehwan stood and moved around the desk, coming to stand before the champion. He was back in his nobelmen's garb, split sleeve doublet of spun silver, white linen underneath, black leather leggings and boots laced halfway up his calves. Wonshik almost preferred the clothes he’d borrowed from the stableboy. They made his lover look more like a person than a prince. 

“Love, tell me what’s wrong. I can’t have you upset with me on top of everything else, I will not be able to bear it.”

Jaehwans arms wrapped around his neck, hiding his face against Wonshiks shoulder. His fingers twisting playfully in Wonshiks mercifully darkened hair. Jaehwan had supplied him with indigo dye to remove all traces of the cyanide blonde. “Let me resume my training.”

His lord’s movements stilled. Entirely. “What?”

“Let me resume my training. Return to the dormitory, practice swordcraft, just let me go back so I don’t have to be here anymore.”

The words left his mouth with more of a bite than Wonshik had intended. “So you don’t _ have _to be here anymore?”

Wonshik sighed tiredly. He was _ so _tired. “I do not enjoy having your happy family paraded in front of me day in and day out.”

Jaehwan looked up at him, mouth open in shock. “I thought you said you adore Nari-“

“Nari is not the aspect I take issue with, my lord. I told you before, I don’t like the idea of having a married man as a lover, and I like it even less when I have to spend the majority of my time in the presence of his wife.”

“So,” his lord said, pausing a moment to apparently think through his reply. “So you’d prefer getting the shit kicked out of you on the sand, rather than watching my back?”

“I’m not watching your back, I’m _ watching _ a _ wall. _ And if anything, I’m the one who kicks the shit out of-”

Jaehwan cut him off. “You prefer sleeping in your room in the dormitory rather than sleeping in my bed?”

“You haven't actually been sleeping in your own bed, have you my lord? Waiting until you think I’m asleep and sneaking away? If you want to sleep with your wife, that’s none of my business, but don’t make me wait and warm the sheets for you while you do it.”

His lord’s mouth was shut, lips pressed into a thin line. Wonshik’s heart was beating a touch faster. He resisted the urge to pull his lover closer when Jaehwan took a step back. “That’s what you think?”

“I mean, I assumed it was your wife. Was it one of the other guards?”

Jaehwan’s eyes flashed and he took another step back. Jaw clenched. “I was coming _ here, _ to this room, love. Not for a midnight tryst, mind you, but to try and _ work. _ I have to take control of the entire kingdom, love. Or have you somehow forgotten that the king is dead, my parents are dead, and anyone else I may have asked for council is either _ also _ dead or held hostage by the enemy?”

Wonshik’s heart stuttered, swallowing hard at the anger glinting in his lovers eyes. “If you wish to return to the sand with the other fighters, you may do as you wish. I won’t keep you at my side by force no matter how much comfort your presence brings me. But do not _ insult _me by accusing me of merely using you for pleasure or being unfaithful to you. Since the night of your first tourne when you took me to your bed, I have been with no one else. Not my wife, and certainly not another guard. I love you, and I only want you, but you may do as you like.”

Jaehwan turned and stalked back to his wide oak desk. “I may have the luxury of discrimination when it comes to bedmates, but that doesn’t mean I indulge with every person that looks at me twice. I thought you knew me better than that.”

“You- you love me?” Wonshik breathed, tongue feeling thick in his mouth as he watched his lord whirl and glare. “Of course I do, you fucking idiot!”

Butterflies swirled inside his stomach as the champion crossed the room. Dust caught in shafts of light, hanging suspended in the air. Wonshik tucked his lord up in his arms, holding him tight. “I love you too.”

Jaehwan’s lips crashed against his, a hand on Wonshik’s neck. A hand in his hair. His slim body was pressed up against the champion’s, frantic and warm and Wonshik felt like he could die happy now. His lord loved him. 

“Tell me again,” he murmured, lifting Jaehwan up and sitting him on his desk. Jaehwan’s hands were under his shirt now, etching trails of fire into his skin as he nibbled and nuzzled at Wonshik’s neck. “I love you.”

Wonshik smiled. He sighed, soft, feeling his lords legs wrap around his waist and Wonshik bent him backward. He kissed Jaehwan’s cheeks, his temples, his chin, before capturing his mouth once more. Jaehwan laughed against his lips. 

“Stay with me? I need you at my side, love, now more than ever.”

“Your word, my law.”

His lord nipped at the champion’s bottom lip, hands clasped behind Wonshik’s head, and he- 

The office door swung open with absolutely no warning, Wonshik pulling off his lord’s mouth with a wet sort of smack. Sanghyuk stood there, eyes black as pitch and glinting like chips of obsidian, glaring at the pair with undisguised disgust. His lords brother was, quite possibly, the last person Wonshik would have chosen to walk in on them in such a compromising position, but the damage was done. 

“We will discuss _ this,” _ Sanghyuk hissed, waving his hand about as Jaehwan gently pushed the champion off, “Impropriety later. There is an urgent matter for you to attend.”

“What has happened?”

Wonshik backed over to the corner he’d been standing in, Sanghyuk slapping a folded and sealed square of parchment down on the desk. “Hakyeon sent you a letter.”

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this story. It has all of my heart and soul.

Jaehwan stomped the length of his office and then back the other way. 

His daughter and wife were still safely outside, so the Marquess de Anathama let loose all the frustration he’d been holding back for the past week. All the rage and sadness and agony at the loss of his parents, the betrayal of one of his closest friends. And now. And _now,_ Hakyeon had the gall to-

“That  _ poisonous _ cunt! Where did he find the balls?!”

“Probably the same place he found the balls to kill the king.”

Jaehwan slammed his fist on the desktop at his brothers extremely inappropriate quip. “It was a rhetorical fucking question!”

“We should summon Lord Taekwoon, he’s as much a part of this as you, his father-“

“Yes, yes and we will, but first the three of us must reach an understanding.”

The Marquess glared from his brother, standing in one corner, to his man, standing in the opposite. 

“The two of you _must_ come to accord.”

Sanghyuk opened his mouth to speak but Jaehwan held up a hand and he fell mercifully silent. “I know, I know all the protests you are about to voice, brother, but he is dear to me, yes? I love him.”

His younger brother flinched, but his gaze did not. “I love him and he is a world class fighter and he has my back, unconditionally.” 

Silence. 

“And you,” Jaehwan continued, turning to Wonshik, hands on hips. “My champion, my love, I need you to listen to my brothers words as if they were my own.”

“Your brother is a pompous ass.”

“I am not disputing that fact love, but he is my little brother nonetheless.”

“Hey!”

“Be quiet for a moment please, brother,” Jaehwan snapped, moving to stand before Wonshik. Laying a hand on his broad shoulder. The Marquess knew that his champion would be the harder of the two to sway. Sanghyuk would bend, he always did eventually. He’d see the sense of having a trained and blooded fighter at their side in this. But Wonshik had no reason to trust Sanghyuk. No reason to respect him. 

“Your sister, Jiwon, what would you do for her?”

“Die,” his man replied, not a moment’s hesitation. Jaehwan felt a spark of passion ignite in his chest. 

“Yes. What  _ you _ would do for your sister,  _ I _ would do for my brother. Do you know how easy it would have been for me? To cave to the pressure, the hatred, the rumors? To abdicate my position and hand the duchy over to him, live out my days on my country estate with a flock of stableboys and footmen at my beck and call, partying and drinking myself senseless every night?”

Wonshik was meeting his eyes now. Good. He was listening. 

“But I did not. The day he was born when I was four years old and climbed up into our parents bed, feeling his little hand wrap around my finger I swore. I  _ swore _ on my life that I would protect him. I gave up any future happiness in relationships, I've endured gossip and bile and lies being spewed behind my back. I gave up the approval of our father, the loyalty of our people, so what if they didn’t love me? They were loyal to my brother and that is all that matters. If he wanted the titles and the duchy and the kingdom, they would be his, and he knows that. But he does  _ not. _ He loves me and is loyal to me, the only person in this world who’s loyalty actually matters. I could have run back into that ballroom and done the easy thing, fallen on my own dagger at the sight of our parents bodies, but I did not. I didn’t allow myself to be killed either because I made a promise to always come back and keep my brother safe.”

If you were standing in that room with those three men in that moment, you could have heard a pin drop. 

“If I surrender now, let Hakyeon take the throne, what do you think will happen to Sanghyuk? My brother? Nari? To you? All of you will die. And I will not allow that, do you hear me? I will  _ not allow  _ harm to come to those I love while I still draw breath and I _need_ you to help me with this.”

He put a hand to his man’s cheek. “Do you understand, love? You’re my warrior?”

Wonshik nodded, slow. The Marquess de Anathama turned halfway, catching Sanghyuks eye. Raising a hand in his brothers direction. “I am  _ his _ warrior.”

Pointing out the window to where he knew his daughter walked. “I am  _ her _ warrior.”

Turning back, caressing his man’s high cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. “I am  _ your _ warrior.”

A  _ pause, _ a pause in which Jaehwan heard his heart pounding in his ears. And then his man knelt before him. Lowered himself to one knee and caught Jaehwans hand, pressing the ring of the Marquess de Anathama to his lips. 

“Your word, my law.”

☩☩☩☩☩

_ ‘It is my great pleasure to invite you, Duke Jaehwan and Marquess Sanghyuk Of Anathama, to the first inaugural Kresea games, held in honor of the ascension of King Hakyeon to the throne of Bomora.  _

_ Date: The Winter Solstice. _

_ Palace accommodation will be provided for noble guests and their champions.’ _

And scrawled at the bottom in ink the color of hearts blood-

_ ‘See you soon’ _

☩☩☩☩☩

Sanghyuk stared down at the invitation in his hands, only half listening to his brother and Taekwoons conversation. Duke Jaehwan and Marquess Sanghyuk. Their true titles, or the titles they would have if his elder brother wasn’t refusing to acknowledge them. If the kingdoms inheritance wasn’t hanging over their heads. 

King Jaehwan of Bomora. Prince Sanghyuk, Duke of Anathama.  _ Those _ would be their titles when Jaehwan ascended the throne. Sanghyuk wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready for  _ any _ of this. But his brother had spoken truth. The young lord’s loyalty to his brother was unflinching. Sanghyuk would walk into the deepest circle of hell to keep Jaehwan safe and if fighting was what Jaehwan wanted to do? Then  _ fight _ they would. 

“What do you think, Sanghyuk?”

Sanghyuk glanced up. “Sorry, what?”

“Please, dear brother, try and focus,” Jaehwan sighed, leaning tiredly into the man at his back. The elder had left Sanghyuk and Wonshik alone, going to fetch Taekwoon himself. They had had a short conversation, the two of them. Short, but weighty. 

_ `I don’t like you,’ Sanghyuk had said, pushing himself off the wall and approaching the champion where he stood in the opposite corner of the room.  _

_ Wonshik had looked back at him, arms crossed. Sanghyuk has almost expected a fight, although he had no reason to. “I don’t like you either, my lord, but I do love him.” _

_ Sanghyuk had waited.  _

_ “I love him, and if he tells me to watch your back, then I will.” _

_ “My brother has my allegiance and always will. Despite not understanding the- affection he bears you, I’ll watch your back as well.” _

_ They had shaken hands then, Sanghyuk adjusting Wonshiks position in his mental register. Moved him from fighter, to brother. If they were all going to march headlong into death, being pleasant to Jaehwans loved ones was the least Sanghyuk could do.  _

“I  _ am _ focused.”

“Do you need a break?”

Sanghyuk sent a glare his brothers way. “Oh shut up, old man. I’m young enough to still have some stamina, your the one that probably needs a break.”

Jaehwan spluttered, chucking a balled up piece of parchment at the youngers head. “I am twenty-eight years old!”

“Ancient.”

“If you two are quite finished,” Taekwoon prompted, resting his elbows on the table, “I need to know what to tell my men.” 

Jaehwan nodded, sparing a moment to throw a quill in Sanghyuks direction. “Yes, yes. Go home, assemble your forces and choose your champions. We will meet at the border in two weeks time and enter as a united front. Stay strong, my lord.”

“And Daehyun will be safe with your lady wife?”

“Of course, they will be at my estate in the north with Nari and a legion until all of this madness is put to rest.”

“Good,” the Marquess de Lylore said, standing. He made to leave the office but stopped halfway to the door and, to Sanghyuks amazement, Taekwoon turned and bowed. _Low. _

“Your majesty,” he said, cats eyes fixed on the floor and Jaehwan flinched back in surprise. Their ally stayed still, as if waiting for- “Thank you, you’re dismissed,” Jaehwan breathed, voice almost injured as three watched Taekwoon stand and quit the room. 

“Oh gods, I don’t like that,” his brother said, hiding his face in his ring covered hands. “You’ll need to get used to it,” Sanghyuk replied, still a bit stunned himself. “It is good to have his loyalty confirmed so outright, though.”

“Brother,” Jaehwan said, hesitant, reaching out to brush his fingertips over the back of Sanghyuks hand. “Would you give us the room, please? You have to go tell the captain of guard our plan and meet with the generals, and I need to speak to my champion.”

Sanghyuk did his best not to glare. “Of course,” he replied, standing and copying Taekwoons bow of moments ago. “If you don’t mind,” the young lord added, a wicked smile crossing his face, “Lock the door if you plan on indulging in carnal pleasure, your majesty. I don’t fancy walking in on it again.”

☩☩☩☩☩

“Your jaw is so nice,” Jaehwan said, splayed out on the large velvet bed in his chambers. One of his long legs atop the blanket, one arm folded behind his head. 

“Don’t even  _ try _ distracting me, Jaehwan, it’s not going to work!”

Wonshik stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over his bare chest and frustration burning bitter in his stomach. 

“Especially when you’re worked up, love. It juts out in the most pleasing way-“

“Jaehwan!”

His lover grumbled something about  _ ‘just trying to pay you a compliment’  _ and rolled over, burying his face in a pillow. “You-  _ uhg! _ Sit up and then give me one good reason why I’m not allowed to fight on your behalf!”

“You belong at my side, not in the arena. Simple as that.”

Wonshik... well, his mouth fell open but it was more like his jaw had come unhinged and fallen off his face completely, hitting the ground with a clatter. 

“If I’m remembering correctly, you  _ purchased  _ me for just such an occasion as this! Fighting for you is the entirety of my job!” he spluttered, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Oh, stop being so dramatic, love! Come here.”

The champion approached his lover with steps that fairly screamed petulence, but Jaehwan simply smiled. He took Wonshik’s hand and pulled him onto the mattress, cuddling up to Wonshik like a serpent. 

“I would have thought you’d want your best to fight for you in this.”

“Sanghyuk is lending me Hongbin, he’s won just as many tourne’s as you have. Do you think he will fail me?”

Wonshik snorted. His friend was an excellent fighter and no mistake, but that wasn’t the point. “I know not. And he will fight valiantly on your behalf, sweetheart, I’m sure. But  _ I  _ am your champion! The people will be expecting to see  _ me _ on the sand!”

“Fuck the people,” Jaehwan replied, face splitting in an idiot grin.

“That’s not a very kingly attitude.”

“Oh  _ gods, _ love, why must you fight me on absolutely everything?”

“I'm your  _ fighter,”  _ Wonshik deadpanned, earning a smack to the chest. “Yes, you’re my fighter, but this will not be an ordinary tourne. Hakyeon recognized you at the Anathama games, he told me so, and I can guarantee that every other fighter on the sand will have strict instructions to go after you. Our enemy aims to wound me, yes? To make me give up? And if I lose you, if I have to watch you die, love, I don’t know how I’ll be able to go on.”

The champion’s eyes softened as he looked down at his lord. Jaehwan was putting up a good front but Wonshik knew he wasn’t as happy as he sounded. The murder of his parents still hung heavy over his head. Wonshik heard him, some nights, crying quietly into his pillow, and the sound of his lover’s pain made Wonshiks chest ache. 

“Do you have such little faith in me?”

Jaehwan sat up, smile replaced by a deep frown. “Wonshik, love, my faith in you is not the issue here! I cannot- cannot put you in-“

His lord’s word choke off then, fingers tangling themselves in Wonshiks hair and eyes wide. The champion shushed him gently, already knowing what Jaehwan wanted to say. “Your such a soft one my lord, such a sweetheart.”

His mind was taken back to the moments after his first battle on the sand, when Jaehwan had come to him and Wonshik had said those exact words. His lover  _ was  _ a soft one. The softest and sweetest man Wonshik had ever known and despite the circumstances that had brought them together, Wonshik couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He loved this man. Loved him so deeply that the slightest brush of Jaehwans fingers made him want to cry. 

“My sweetheart, I know this is already going to be difficult for you, but you must listen to me now,” he murmured, pressing a lips to his lover’s brow. “I will not allow anyone else to fight for your honor. It will be me, not Hongbin, not Sanghyuk, not the gods themselves. Me.”

Jaehwan opened his mouth to protest, but Wonshik caught him in a kiss before he could. The champion didn’t think he’d ever get enough of that, the taste of his lord’s lips. The feeling of Jaehwan pressed up against him. “I love you,” he said, leaving a trail of featherlight kisses along his lord’s jaw. 

“I love you too, which is exactly why I’m not allowing you to do this.”

☩☩☩☩☩

“My lord duke, your presence has been requested in the throne room." 

Jaehwan spun around, glaring at the servant for all he was worth. An audience with his highness the apostate was the last thing he wanted to do just then. Or ever, for that matter.

The journey to the capital city of Myndalia had been fraught to say the least. Their convoy had been attacked twice. Or  _ ambushed _ twice, and invaded twice more but by others. Trained assassins. The ambushes had been nothing, peasants loyal to Hakyeon who were just trying to do what they thought was right, but the assassins were a whole other ballgame. 

Wonshik- Jaehwan freely admitted that he’d be dead if it weren't for his champions constant vigilance and supreme skill. The Marquess had dispatched one of the assassins himself, but the other... the one that got past everyone and put a knife to his throat... Jaehwan had been powerless in that situation, a state of being that he absolutely detested. The assassin had gone down with Wonshik’s blade buried between his ribs and a broken neck for good measure. 

They’d met up with Taekwoon on the border as planned and entered the capital together with much less trouble, but neither Marquess had actually  _ seen _ Hakyeon yet. 

“Inform the Marquess de Crensell than I respectfully decline,” Jaehwan said, tone sharp, but the messenger just waited there. He didn’t even blink! 

His man appeared without a whisper of sound, standing tall at his back. “You heard the Marquess, you’re dismissed,” Wonshik said, that deep rumble of a voice carrying the barest hint of menase. 

“Apologies, my lord, but I’ve been instructed to bring you by force if you refuse.”

“And how exactly do you expect to do that?”

The door to Jaehwan’s chambers opened once again and a cadre of guards trooped in. Jaehwan heard the ring of steel as Wonshik drew his sword from its scabbard, and it took a  _ real _ effort to stop his mind from flipping into fight mode.

He feigned a very put-upon sigh, rolling his shoulders and lifting a hand to subdue his champion before any unnecessary spilling of blood could occur. “There is no need for all,” the Marquess hummed, waving his other hand in the guards direction, “All of this fanfair. If his grace missed my so much, refusing his audience would be impolite.”

“My lord, I must  _ insist _ that you reconsider,” Wonshik hissed. Jaehwan risked a glance over his shoulder, nearly losing his breath at the fire in his man’s dark eyes. Wonshik truly was divine to look upon. “It’s alright love, at ease,” he hummed, turning his eyes back to the guards. The weight of his daggers were an invisible reassurance strapped to his wrists, and plus, killing him in private wasn’t really Hakyeon's style. Neither was patricide, though, so maybe more caution was needed. 

Jaehwan and Wonshik were marched down a series of winding corridors, four guards to a side. But only the two of them. Sanghyuk had apparently not received the same summons. Jaehwan could feel the tension chorded in his mans muscles, he knew Wonshik was itching for a fight. This wasn’t the time. “Let me do all the talking, your job is to just stand with me and look intimidating,” he whispered, fingers brushing the edge of Wonshik’s sleeve. He got no audible response. 

They were announced at the door of the throne room, the conspicuousness of Jaehwan’s new title made his skin itch. He would be the Marquess or the King. Not Duke or anything in between. And then Jaehwan saw him. 

Hakyeon was sitting on the throne, legs crossed at the knee, draped in scarlet silk. It was an image that once, not even a month ago, would have lit Jaehwans heart aflame. Now, all he felt was nauseous. 

“You’re in my seat.”

“Hello, Jaehwan-ah. It’s been ages.”

“Not _nearly_ long enough for my taste.”

Jaehwan kept his hands at his side, and he didn’t bow. He saw the twinge of annoyance in his friend’s eyes at that, saw it clear as day despite the accompanying smile. “You bark a surprising amount for a dog who usually prefers to lie down and beg.”

“Is that a polite way of calling me a bitch?” Jaehwan asked, letting his eyes slide out of focus. Pretending to be bored. Pretending the insult didn’t sting. “Your words not mine, Jaehwan-ah.”

“I will not entertain inane chatter,” the Marquess said, crossing his arms and tapping his left foot. At his side, Wonshik was like a statue he was so still. “Why did you summon me?”

Hakyeon shifted slightly where he sat upon Jaehwan’s throne. “I wanted to give you the option to do the sensible thing. Abdicate. Give up your title and back down, and I promise no harm will come to your family.”

“No  _ more  _ harm,” Jaehwan corrected. “I believe you’ve overestimated your own importance, my lord. If I were to abdicate, my daughter would be queen. And my brother king after her. You’ll have my throne over my dead body with the kingdom burned to ashes around you and  _ not _ before.”

“Look where we are, Jaehwan-ah,” Hakyeon replied, flourishing an elegant hand around the room. “Taking the crown from you was as easy as taking sweets from a child. I’m not saying that to get a Pavlovian response from your acolyte, it’s simply the truth.”

Wonshik had somehow gone stiller than before. The Marquess looked at him, pretending that his nerves were not ringing in alarm at the thought of tearing his eyes from the traitor. His man looked so angry and  _ so _ beautiful. Those dark eyes burning with the light of a myriad stars. Inky hair swept up off his handsome face. Lines of muscle etched with leather and black velvet. He was so,  _ so- _

“Your champion, if i'm not mistaken. What is a slave doing, standing by your side like a free man?”

Jaehwan winced at that. He didn’t ever use the word-

“My closeguard’s promotion is none of your concern.”

“And how are you enjoying your new sleeping accommodations, Raven? Is your lords bed to your liking?” Hakyeon was grinning, snake-like, addressing Wonshik directly now. Jaehwan expected his man his snarl, to draw blades and throw himself on the traitor, but Wonshik did neither. To Jaehwan’s complete surprise, his man smiled. “Jealous?”

Hakyeon visibly bristled. He  _ wasn’t _ jealous, Jaehwan knew that much to be true. Their time together had been nothing more than a passing infatuation, as easily kindled as it was extinguished, the moment they were out of one another's presence. No, Hakyeon would take issue with the  _ tone  _ of the accusation, the  _ impertinence _ with which he was being spoken to by one so  _ beneath  _ him. 

“I wondered why your brothers champion was being housed in the barracks rather than your own. Is this one too good of a fuck to be allowed onto the sand?”

Jaehwan stayed entirely silent. 

“Oh, no, it’s the other...” Hakyeon murmured, grin changing to a leer that was downright cruel. “You  _ love _ him.”

“And? What concern is it of yours, my lord?” Jaehwan asked, feigning boredom again. 

Hakyeon shrugged. “None. I was simply curious as to why you’d suddenly become so set on keeping a title that we both know you’ve never wanted. Is it him? Enjoying the noble lifestyle? Does he dream of being a consort to a king rather than a mere duke?”

“I’d give up everything I have and everything I am for the sake of my daughter, Hakyeon. And my daughter deserves to be a princess. My closeguard has nothing to do with it. If that’s all, may we go?” 

“Of course,” the traitor replied, after a weighty pause. “I will see you on the morrow, when my champion defeats your borrowed one.”

Jaehwan didn’t bow, didn’t laugh either, simply spinning on his heels and clasping his hands behind his back as Wonshik followed him out of the throne room.

☩☩☩☩☩

Sanghyuk was having deja vu. 

He sat beside his brother in the aristocrats box, the mob below screaming in excitement at the bloodshed to come. Only now, Hakyeon wasn’t sitting on Jaehwans other side, he was several rows above them, perched on the gilded seat traditionally occupied by the king. 

This tourne was more than something to bet on or gain a bit of prestige through. In truth, it was a pissing contest. A way for the Marquess de Crensell to assert his dominance over the other nobles, those who remained that is. Boy, was he in for a surprise. 

“How do you feel about our odds, brother? You’re the expert,” Jaehwan asked softly, fingers tapping on his thigh. The black leather britches and knee boots were normal, nearly identical to Sanghyuks own, but the top was a  _ choice.  _ Deep mulberry doublet of the finest velvet, delicate floral patterns embroidered on the hem and cuffs with black thread. Cloak of midnight fox fur that reached all the way to the floor. When Sanghyuk had asked if wearing purple was the smartest decision, his elder brother had simply replied,  _ ‘I’m the fucking king’. _ And that was that. 

“Well, we know it’s a battle grande, so that’s good. It’s always easier for our champion to win those, less time between fights to get tired,” Sanghyuk replied in equal softness. 

“Do you think the traitor will just flood the sand with dozens of warriors so that ours won’t have a chance? That’s what I’d do.”

Sanghyuk managed a small smile. “No, brother. You are overly calculating in matters such as this. The Marquess de Crensell is of a theatrical disposition, he’ll want something more spectacular than a simple execution. Plus, all of his allies have entered their champions as well Lord taekwoon. He’ll want to demonstrate that he’s the best.” 

Jaehwan nodded minutely. “It will be alright. I don’t think he’ll have us put to death after our victory. It would be bad form.” His brother chuckled at that, a dry chuckle devoid of any and all humor, but it was better than nothing. 

“Welcome, citizens of Bomora, ladies and gentlemen, honored nobles, to the first annual Myndalia games, held in honor of his highness, King Hakyeon's ascension!”

The crowds roaring grew louder, stomping their feet and clapping. How could they be so happy, Sanghyuk wondered, with a murderous traitor sitting on the stolen throne? 

“Closeguard, come,” Jaehwan murmured, the champion shrouded in black kneeling at his side as the announcer introduced the fighters trooping onto the sand. 

“My lord?”

“Be wary. We may not be in the arena for true, but we are in just as much peril. If not more.”

The champion nodded sharply, clapping a hand to his chest. “Your word, my law,” Hongbin said, shooting Sanghyuk a sidelong smile. 

“The best is saved for last, friends!” the announcer boomed, waiting for the crowd to fall silent. “The warrior you’ve all been waiting for, The Raven of Anathama!”

Sanghyuk heard his brothers breath hitch as his man stomped onto the sand, light armor of matte black steel strapped over his fighting leathers and matching sword strapped to his back. The raven's feather woven into his dark hair fluttered in the breeze, flashing eyes made even more dramatic by the kohl and belladonna. 

Fresh tension bloomed in the air of the aristocrats box. The switch had apparently been quite successful, Hongbin's trick attire and platform boots convincing enough to make the others believe he was actually Wonshik. But now the proverbial cat was out of the bag. 

Jaehwan raised his goblet as Wonshik bowed in his direction, the eruption of noise from the crowd nearly sending the arenas timbers shaking. Sanghyuk snuck a glance over his shoulder at the Marquess de Crensell. He was rewarded with an expression of cold furry gracing the traitors features.

Wonshik stalked out into the middle of the ring once his little ceremony was complete. There were ten others on the sand with him but this was not like his first match, allowing multiple victors and awarding multiple laurels. This was a fight to the death with only one winner, only ending when the other nine were dead. 

The horns blew and the mob shrieked, the first opponent hefting a glistening silver sword. As the man raised his blade, Wonshik moved quick as lightning. He side-stepped as the man charged, the tip of the sword whistling past his head almost too fast to see. Their champion cracked his rondel across the man’s wrist and sent his blade flying. The man screamed as Wonshik kicked at his knee, releasing the savagery Sanghyuk only saw from him during a true fight. 

Wonshik brought his own broadsword down directly into the man’s throat. Red froth poured from the man’s mouth, Wonshik pulling his blade free and nearly decapitating his foe in the process. One down, nine to go, Sanghyuk thought, as the enemy fell dead at Wonshiks feet.

Hakyeon's fighter was battling with Taekwoons, their styles reminiscent of two drunks brawling in a seaside tavern. No artistry in their movements. Simple violence. Turning his eyes from the pair, Sanghyuk watched Wonshik level his sword at the head of the oncoming warrior. Another came at him from the left and the sword was knocked from Wonshiks hand, but it barely slowed him down. 

The twin adversaries approached, ever closer, blades raised and eyes flashing behind their helms. One swung at his head but Wonshik punched him square in the throat, catching up the broadsword from his enemies hand. The gauntlet of the second enemy connected with the back of his head, Wonshik barely managing to keep his balance as he whirled and ducked low, sweeping the man's legs out from under him. Two more advanced slower, blood dripping down Wonshik’s neck from the gash now decorating the back of his dark head.

Wonshik countered one of the new fighters strikes blow for blow, locking up his guard and sending him sprawling into the dirt with an elbow to the chest. He planted his stolen blade between the enemies ribs, nailing him to the ground as he turned to face the other opponent. 

He spun wide, ducking a scything strike aimed at his cheek and kicking the helm off the man’s head. Wonshik grabbed a first full of his opponents hair and brought his rondel down, the blade piercing his enemies eye socket with an audible  _ squelch. _

Turning again,  _ just _ in time to block a savage blow set to connect with his skull, Wonshik moved. He wove around the huge man with the grace of a dancer. Letting his opponent tire himself out the way he had done to Sanghyuk on their first day of training. He slithered inside the opponents guard, pulling a spare dagger from his enemies belt and driving it up into the soft underside of the man’s chin. The man fell with nothing more than a wet gurgle. 

Another opponent had gotten the drop on him this time, coming up from the right. Hakyeon's champion. The enemies blow caught him square across his unprotected shoulder and sent him stumbling back. Another strike, to the ribs this time. 

Jaehwan gasped at Sanghyuks side as their champion finally found his footing. Wonshik reached toward one of the downed men, pulling his broadsword free of the dead man’s throat and bringing it around in time to block. Locking up the enemies guard with a ring of steel on steel. 

Wonshik punched the man in the face, short and sharp, two, three times. He spun in place, hooking a leg around his opponents and sending them both toppling to the sand. He beat at the man with the hilt of his sword before letting it go all together, blade forgotten in the dirt as he sat on top of him. Straddling the man’s chest, pummeling his face with his fists, the man’s features barely more than a pulp. And with a final show of  _ swift _ brutality, Wonshik pulled one of Jaehwans own stiletto daggers from his sleeve and shoved it through his enemies open mouth. Sanghyuk heard the distinct sound of cracking skull as it punched through the top of the man’s spinal cord and came clean out the other side.

Seven. He’d killed  _ seven _ men in the time it took Hakyeon’s champion to kill  _ one.  _ And now Hakyeon’s champion was dead as well. The horns were blown, signalling the end of the bout and Wonshik’s victory. 

“The Raven!” the announcer shouted, crowd roaring in approval as Wonshik stood and raised Jaehwan’s stiletto high in the air. He was splattered in blood from head to toe, that headwound and the deep cut on his shoulder needing immediate attention. 

At his side, Jaehwan looked a bit green. “Victorious, just as we knew you would be,” Taekwoon said, a small smile gracing his features as he patted Jaehwan’s knee. “Congratulations your majesty,” Hongbin said, still standing a pace behind them. Sanghyuk clapped a hand on his brothers shoulder, his breath coming a little easier. 

Jaehwan stood and waved to the crowd and they watched as a silver laurel was placed atop Wonshik’s head. The crowd chanted the champions name and Wonshik swept Jaehwan a final bow before he exited the arena, stepping over the corpses on his way. 

“Good, that was good,” the young lord said, patting his brothers back as they prepared to leave. Normally, Sanghyuk would love to stay and watch the other bouts, but they had no reason to do so. Plus, being out in the open like this was dangerous enough without hanging around to gloat. 

Taekwoon went first, leaning their group towards the staircase, Jaehwan with Hongbin in the middle, and Sanghyuk bringing up the rear. As they past Hakyeon, Jaehwan looked up. His haughty mask was stuck on his face, but Sanghyuk didn’t think the smug tone in his brother's voice was fake when he said, “My commiserations on your loss.”

☩☩☩☩☩

“My sweetheart.”

Jaehwan lay on his back in the center of his mattress, dressing gown secured around his waist by nothing more than a loose knot. The pet name sounded more beautiful than he favorite sonata when it was spoken in his mans voice. Dropped from between his mans delicious lips with such ease. “Come, love.”

Wonshik walked toward him much too slowly for the Marquess’ taste. He crawled up onto the bed, movements not ceasing until a hand was pressed to the pillow on either side of Jaehwan’s head. “The word beautiful does not do you justice.”

“You were marvelous today, love. It was a good plan,” Jaehwan hummed. There was still a bit of kohl rimming his mans dark eyes. The Marquess ran a thumb over one of the smudges. “And I like you messy.”

His man smiled, dangerously,  _ wonderfully _ close. “Do you now?”

“Mm, so rugged as well.”

Wonshik leaned in and caught the Marquess in a deep, lingering kiss and it was all Jaehwan could do to remember to breathe. His ankles locked at the small of Wonshik’s back, hands knotting in his hair, tongue flicking out to taste the wine on his man’s lips. 

“Do you want me, love? Adrenaline still pumping through your veins?” 

His mans hand slipped inside his robe, fingers curling like a puppeteer over a marionette. “I want to watch you paint your lips with enemy blood and then lick it off.”

Jaehwan laughed quietly. His man lay a trail of kisses down his neck, pushing Jaehwan’s tunic up to move freely across his chest, leaving the Marquess gasping. The sparkle of his tongue dancing over Jaehwan’s nipple, the soft press of Wonshik’s teeth against the nub. “I thought you didn’t like dirty talk, love. Where- where is this coming from?”

“I’m in the mood.”

“I can-  _ ah  _ I can see that.”

Wonshik looked up at Jaehwan, looked up through his lashes, and the fire he saw there sent goosebumps erupting across Jaehwan’s body. He’d never seen a look  _ quite _ like that before. “You- do you want to fuck me or kill me?”

“I’d never kill you,” his man replied, forming the words against Jaehwan’s sternum. “I want to bend you over your throne so you think of me every time you sit in it.”

And wasn’t  _ that _ a pretty mental picture. Jaehwan groaned, delighting in the gentle pressure of Wonshik’s mouth on his neck. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Wonshik murmured. His lips broke away with a sigh, moving up to lay a series so soft kisses along Jaehwans jaw. The Marquess was losing himself in feeling of Wonshik. Falling down into the need for him. His lovers fingertips ran across the small of his back, the room growing hot around them. 

Jaehwan rocked his hips, aching at the sensation of nothing between them. He wanted so badly to just-

Wonshik rolled off him, pulling a knife from the gods only knew where and throwing it towards the door. 

☩☩☩☩☩

The champions blade found its mark, lodging itself firmly in the soldiers head like his skull was made of butter. His lord screamed wordlessly as the man fell, hitting the floor with a hollow thud, but it didn’t actually matter because more guards hastened inside. Jaehwan’s bedchamber was overrun with them! 

“Get behind me,” Wonshik breathed. He pulled his lord to his feet and pushed him against the wall, only slightly reasured by the feeling of his lovers chest against his back. There were more knives between the mattress and his sword was leaning up against the nightstand, but it was on the other side of the bed.  _ Shit. _

His lords brother was in the next chamber over, not to mention his handpicked unit of guards. If he could just- “Sanghyuk!” Wonshik shouted, forgoing titles for the sake of efficiency. It would have been hard for the young lord to miss the noise of this unwelcome stampede, but calling for him couldn’t hurt. 

Jaehwan had his stilettos out, Wonshik saw them flash in the corner of his eye, so that was good at least. He’d insisted that his lord sleep with them strapped to his wrists while they were in the palace which was a decision he now patted his past self on the back for. If only he’d taken the same precautions. 

“Here love,” Jaehwan murmured, pushing one of the daggers into Wonshik’s hand. The champion took it, even though they were the weapon he was weakest with. It was better than nothing. To the soldiers, his lord snapped, “Explain yourselves!”

“You, Duke Jaehwan of Anathama, are under arrest by order of the king. Your champion as well,” the biggest of the lot replied. So he was in charge. Great. Wonshik had his first target. 

Two of them took a step forward but Wonshik slashed out with the dagger. “Unless you want to end up like your fallen comrade, I  _ highly _ suggest you leave the way you came,” he hissed, reaching back and knotting a hand in the fabric of Jaehwan’s dressing gown. The fresh stitches in his shoulder pulled and his head still ached something fierce, but those were nothing more than an annoyance. 

They rushed at him out of nowhere, five or six of them at once. Wonshik let out a black curse. He took down the first one with ease, knife straight to the jugular, but even he couldn’t win when it was six on one. Jaehwan moved out from behind him as fast as flies. That kind of speed Wonshik had never mastered. His lord swung an arm out, leaving a savage gash across one of the guards faces and dropping to the floor to avoid being grabbed. 

“Get back,” Wonshik shouted, reaching for his lovers hand but Jaehwan had danced too far away. Always throwing himself so recklessly into danger. So admirable but so  _ fucking  _ stupid! 

“Sweetheart!”

His lord killed three of them. Three soldiers lay dead before he slowed enough for them to grab him. “Let go of me, you bastards! How dare you lay a hand on the rightful king of Bomora!” He writhed in the guards arms, aiming a kick at another but it was no use. His bare foot met nothing but air. 

As they began to drag him from the chamber, Sanghyuk burst through the door connecting his and Jaehwans suites. “What in gods name goes on here?!” he exclaimed, unsheathing the sword at his hip. 

“Unhand me cretin! I will have you executed for such treachery!”

Wonshik shoved his dagger into a soldiers stomach, dragging it up to his sternum and gutting him like a fish. One of them tried to stuff the end of Jaehwans dressing gown belt in his lord’s mouth to stop his shrieking and only succeeded in getting his hand bitten. 

“He and I are apparently under arrest!” Wonshik snapped, vaulting over the bed and finally grabbing his sword. Sanghyuk scoffed, driving his blade up into a soldier that tried to rush him. “Like hell you are!”

“Love!” Jaehwan called, gasping as a soldiers fist connected with his stomach. They succeeded in dragging him out the chamber door, a wall of soldiers forming up to try and contain Wonshik and Sanghyuk. But this time, they two groups were more equally matched. 

The leather britches were tight on Wonshik’s waist, slashing out at everyone he could reach. His sword in his dominant hand, Jaehwan’s stiletto as heavy as lead in the other. “This was a particularly marvelous fuck-up,” Sanghyuk said, cheek splitting as a foe’s rondel was introduced to his face. He brought the blades owner down with a perfectly executed kick to the ribs.

Blood was flying through the air as the two inched closer to the chamber door. Reaching the door, reaching Jaehwan, was the only thing occupying Wonshik mind. His singular point of focus. The biggest one, the leader, charged the champion with idiotic ferocity and , with a dark smile, Wonshik stepped up to meet him. 

He sent the man sprawling with a hook to the jaw, his blade a blur as it cut through the air. The leader  _ did _ try to defend himself but he was nothing compared to Wonshik. Had  _ nothing _ in the face of the flurry of blows and strikes Wonshik rained down on him. 

The next to approach was met with a boot to the stomach, impact forcing him to his knees and a weak gasp pushed from his lungs. Wonshik kicked him again. Blow after blow made contact with the enemies ribs, the champion only relenting when he heard the bones break. 

The room around them was in chaos but neither man was fazed. Sanghyuk stood back to back with Wonshik, tall and wild and strong, cutting through soldiers like a scythe. Wonshik didn’t know how many there were but it didn’t matter. In what felt like the space of a few heartbeats, all were dead. “With me,” the young lord grunted, wiping his sword on a fallen soldiers cloak and stalking from the room.

The corridor beyond was empty, Wonshik stomping at Sanghyuk’s side with their own guards at their backs. “What happened,” Sanghyuk asked, voice cold. Someone ran at them out of an adjacent room, the young lord not even bothering to look as he flicked his hand around, sword plunged into the man’s chest, glittering, sinking in to the hilt. 

“We were getting ready for bed and they just stormed in. No warning or anything, and you know Jaehwan, I tried to get him to stay behind me but he just plunged into the frey.”

Sanghyuk barked out a laugh, breaking into a jog that Wonshik easily matched. “What a fucking idiot.”

They followed the sound of Jaehwan’s swearing all the way to the throne room. Unfortunately, two more enemies stood on guard at the door. Unfortunate for the guards, at least. The young lord dispatched them with ease, two throwing knives from his belt piercing the men’s throats. The strength in him was truly astonishing, Wonshik thought, frightening speed written in the line of his arms as Sanghyuk pushed the door open. 

“Bow.”

“Fuck you, rot in the deepest circle of hell you fucking traitor!”

Jaehwan was on his knees in the center of the wide room, a soldier on either side of him. Dressing gown in tatters. Cuts on his forehead, a bruise already forming high on his cheek. Jaehwan looked apoplectic, face pale with fury and eyes alight. It was a lonely picture somehow. 

“You!” Sanghyuk shouted, leveling his sword at a blonde man standing beside the throne. A blonde man with Jaehwan’s stiletto clutched in his hand. Lord Taekwoon, Marquess de Lylore. “I  _ knew _ we couldn’t trust you!”

Betrayal after betrayal.

For his part, Taekwoon did look a bit ashamed, but he made no move to help. “It’s nothing personal. I have a child to think of, his safety is most important.”

“You sent your child off into the country with  _ my _ daughter, you fucking coward! How could you be party to such treason,” Jaehwan shouted, slapping away the hand one of the guards who tried to restrain him. “He’s simply playing the odds, Jaehwan-ah. You should do the same. If you abdicate now, I won’t have your precious daughter executed in front of you.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” 

Hakyeon sighed in annoyance. “Bow. Kneel to me and this will all be finished.”

“I kneel to no one!”

A guard popped up before them and made to grab Wonshik but the champion swung at him. Brought his blade down again and again and again. Another rose up but Sanghyuk handled it, his sword a razored arc as the man fell with a howl of pain. 

“An impressive display, Raven. You too, little Hyukkie. Truly impressive,” Hakyeon said, clapping lightly from his place on the stolen throne. 

“Why didn’t you kill me before, when you killed my parents? This could have gone so much easier for you!” Jaehwan asked, tucking his bare feet underneath him. His face a grim mask, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. 

“Honestly,” Hakyeon replied, crossing his legs and leaning back on the throne. “It wasn’t worth the effort. You pose no threat to me Jaehwan-ah, you never have. In your own words, you’re the picture of weakness. Why would I bother killing you when you always give in so easily? You’re nothing.”

Heart beating like a pounding drum, Wonshik stepped forward. Hakyeon flicked his hand and ten more soldiers advanced on them. The first one came and Wonshik grabbed him, hacking at the man's arm with his sword. Sanghyuk’s blade flashed, cutting a swath through the horde and leaving the marble floor glittering crimson. They fought like that, side by side, back to back, the differences in rank and upbringing between them no longer seemed to matter as they swayed and whirled in tandem.

Wonshik spun and slashed and dipped, barely dodging a blow aimed at his head. Muscles straining, twisting away as far as he could and then snapping back like a whipcord, bringing his sword up and burying it between the soldiers shoulder blades. Another fell to the ground next to him, hands clawing and twisting at the knife buried in his chest. 

Blood on his face and on his tongue, pulse pounding behind his eyes, remaining blade dripping red. Wonshik stared down at his open, empty palm, trying to remember where Jaehwans dagger had gone. He didn’t know how long this second fight lasted but Sanghyuk stood bloody as his side. Or, he  _ had _ been standing there, now darting off to grab Lord Taekwoon who was slinking toward a back entrance. 

Jaehwan leapt to his feet, picking up a rondel that had been abandoned on the floor. Wonshik watched as if in a daze as his lord stalked up the steps of the dais and sprang on his enemy, straddling him and pressing the blade of his knife against Hakyeon’s throat. 

“Give me a  _ single _ reason that I shouldn’t kill you.”

Hakyeon blinked, apparently stunned at Jaehwan’s move. He’d scooted all the way back on the throne, head pressed to the backrest, trying to put as much space between him and Jaehwan as possible. “You don’t have it in you,” he replied, earning an incredibly menasing hiss. 

“Don’t I?” Jaehwan asked in a low and dangerous voice, a drop of blood rolling down Hakyeon’s neck. “I’m not going to abdicate, you stupid fuck. I would never let you take my birthright from me. Try again.”

Wonshik shook his head, pulling himself back to the present. “Sweetheart, don’t!” he called, moving through the heap of bodies to the throne. 

“Why shouldn’t I?! He killed my father! Killed my mother! He fucking deserves it!” his lover snarled, leaning forwards to glare into his enemies eyes. “You’re better than that, sweetheart. Just because his reign began with bloodshed, that doesn’t mean yours has to.”

Sanghyuk’s remaining guards flanked him as he ascended the dais, the young lord himself had dragged Taekwoon back to the center of the room and handed him off to two other guards. Wonshik reached out a hand and rested it on his lords shoulder. His  _ soft _ lord. His  _ sweet _ lord. Doing this would be no good for Jaehwan. He may be furious now, but killing a friend would hurt him deeply in the long run. It would be too much, of that Wonshik was sure. 

Angry tears had begun to spill from his lords shiney brown eyes, mingling with the blood spattered across his cheek and Wonshik sighed. Jaehwan looked up at him, features etched in sorrow and grief. “Come, my sweetheart. He can rot in the dungeons for his crimes.”

Wonshik ran his thumb over his lovers brow. “I agree with the champion, in case anyone was wondering,” Sanghyuk called from the back of the throne room. Hakyeon was sitting entirely still, apparently deciding that keeping his mouth shut was the best thing to do at that juncture. Wonshik wholeheartedly agreed. 

“Fine,” Jaehwan muttered, sliding off his enemies lap and letting the rondel clatter to the floor. He fell into Wonshiks open, waiting arms. His black hair tickled the underside of Wonshik’s chin. Shaking. “He will have a trial.”

☩☩☩☩☩

“Love!” Jaehwan shouted, voice shrill. He entered the room like a reckoning, cloth of deep purple swirling around him like mist. 

It had been a month since the bloody spectacle that ultimately ended with power returning to its rightful owner. The traitors were contained, waiting for their trials before the royal court. As soon as that court could be remade, that is. Hakyeon had killed the members of the previous one and Jaehwan was working diligently to appoint replacements, constantly vetting candidates and restructuring the kingdoms government along the way. 

Wonshik had received a second promotion, now captain of his lords personal guard. The arrangements of which he was currently reviewing with Sanghyuk in his new office. 

“Yes?” the champion asked, looking up from a map of the palace with a smile. 

“Oh good, Hyukkie, you’re here as well! I need opinions!” 

Jaehwan spun in a slow circle, showing off his outfit, bare feet squeaking on the floor. “My lady wife says this will suffice but I’m not sure if it’s good enough. What do you think?”

“You look lovely. Maybe shoes will help.” And he  _ did _ look lovely, silk tunic of deepest violet, black britches, both garments edged with thread of spun gold. A purple cloak as well, lined in black fur. Royal purple. The color of kings. 

“And you, brother? What do  _ you _ have to say?” Jaehwan asked, turning to glare at Sanghyuk with a hand on his hip. The young lord barely dained to glance up from his notes. “You look fine, if you’d let us resume work-”

“It’s for my coronation!  _ Fine _ isn't good enough!” Jaehwan screeched, stomping his foot in an adorable parody of frustration. “Relax! You’re going to deafen us both,” his brother replied, chucking a balled up sheet of parchment at Jaehwan’s head. 

“You look as beautiful as the sun kissing the sea as it dips over the horizon,” Wonshik said, grinning as his lover clapped and Sanghyuk feigned a gag. Jaehwan flounced over and plopped sideways on the champion’s lap. “You always know  _ just _ what to say,” he murmured, slinging an arm around Wonshik’s neck and planting a kiss on his cheek.

Wonshik hugged his lover close, studiously ignoring the young lords retching noises. “Oh! I almost forgot!” Jaehwan shrieked, leaping to his feet and causing Wonshik to jump. Sanghyuk threw another projectile, this time the quill he’d been using moments ago. “What now?! Will you stop yelling?!”

Jaehwan beamed. He held a folded letter in the air, clearly _very_ pleased with himself. “I’ve just finalized the appointment of a new policy advisor!” he squeaked, dancing out of reach when his brother tried to snatch the envelope. 

“I didn’t know we were hiring a new policy advisor.”

“Well,  _ apprentice _ policy advisor, I guess you could say.”

“Who,” Wonshik asked curiously, leaning back in his wingback chair and folding an arm behind his head. His lovers smile was impossibly wide. “You know her rather well, actually. The appointment is an internship of sorts. A real position will be made available once she graduates.”

Wonshik blinked, not understanding. 

“A young women... currently studying politics and government... at university?”

Wonshik frowned. 

“Oh, you’re so unbelievably thick! Jiwon! Your sister! She agreed to be one of my new advisors!”

It took a moment for the words to sink in, his lover looking at him expectantly. “Who?” Sanghyuk asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

“You remember that notebook you tried to steal from me? The one I eventually let you read? With suggestions for ways to lower taxes?”

“Yes...”

“She wrote it. She’s smart and is in the process of completing her education and I want her here. I value intelligence, you know this.”

“You- you hired my sister?” Wonshik asked, muted excitement building in his stomach. Jaehwan nodded. “Also, I’ve made arrangements for your parents to come here, to the capital. Not permanently of course, your farm is very precious to them, I know. Your father told me as much, but I reserved a villa for them anytime they wish to visit you or Jiwon, just to make everything easier because traveling is so- _eek!”_

Wonshik jumped to his feet and caught Jaehwan up, wrapping his arms around him in a fierce hug. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

☩☩☩☩☩

Wonshik watched as Sanghyuk set the crown on Jaehwan’s head. A band of gold, studded with amethyst. His lover sat very still on the throne, chin up, shoulders back, staring straight ahead. His vows complete and blessed by the leader of the gods church, Jaehwan was king. 

“All hail, Jaehwan, King of Bomora!” Sanghyuk said, the guests sitting in rows echoing the call and getting to their feet. Wonshik glanced to his left where his sister sat beside their mother and father, dressed in finery he’d never imagined them wearing before. Jaehwan’s wife sat in a smaller thrown in a beautiful corseted gown, Lady Nari on her lap, but Wonshik had long since stopped caring about the woman's presence. 

He looked back up at his lover. Jaehwan’s skin glowed, the robes of iris purple silk draping his small frame only serving to make him appear godlike. Majestic. Through the row of open windows, Wonshik could hear cheering from the people outside the palace as the hall erupted in applause. He clapped louder than all the rest. 

One by one, the guests lined up before the dias and bowed to kiss Jaehwan’s ring. In rehearsal, Wonshik had been told he would go towards the end of the parade with the other high ranking palace employees. He would take vows of his own then. So he simply watched, first Sanghyuk, then Lord Taekwoon’s wife and son, then a string of other nobel’s he didn’t yet know. His family bowed as well, and Wonshik saw Jaehwan give his mother's hand a surreptitious squeeze and a hidden smile. 

“He  _ does _ look quite kingly, wouldn’t you say?” Hongbin asked, popping up beside Wonshik, the silver buttons on his formal uniform glinting in the light. Wonshik had insisted that he could have his friend join the guard as his right hand. A good choice. “Quite,” Wonshik replied, eyes never leaving his lover.

It felt like moments later that his own turn came. Wonshik approached the dias with sure, easy steps. His heart swelling with pride and pulsing with love as he knelt before Jaehwan and took his slender hand. 

“Do you, Kim Wonshik, pledge the entirely of yourself, your being, and your loyalty to your king?” Sanghyuk asked, standing on his brothers right. 

Wonshik bowed his head, pressing his lips to the heavy golden ring and then dropping a peck on his lovers knuckles for good measure. 

“His word, my law.”

  
  


☩☩☩☩☩

**Author's Note:**

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